


Let's Stay Together, Please

by raeganrolland



Series: It's Called Love, Punks [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Boys In Love, Break Up, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Makeup Sex, Post-Break Up, Soulmates, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 21:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 82,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30112158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raeganrolland/pseuds/raeganrolland
Summary: The story of Bucky and Steve's life together reads sort of like a fairytale. But now that their perfect summer has ended, and it's time to go off to college. They're more than ready to tackle this new chapter of their lives together, but deadlines, scheduling conflicts, and epic misunderstandings threaten to make the journey harder, and the outcome uncertain. The boys soon learn that not everything comes easy, that sometimes just being in love isn't enough, and they find themselves struggling to keep their grip on what matters most - each other.Author note - This has a crap ton of chapters but most of them are pretty short. Enjoy!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff/Sam Wilson
Series: It's Called Love, Punks [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1404007
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

No one on the planet has had a better summer than Bucky Barnes. Seriously. You can quote him on that and everything.

High school is over, the sun is high, and he lives an hour from the beach. Zero responsibility, no worries, free to sleep all day and party all night. 

And then there’s Steve.

An entire summer of Steve. Learning how to be with each other, learning how to touch each other – love each other.

Days wasted by the pool, the tang of chlorine stinging their nostrils, drying tacky on their skin as they doze under the sun. Hours spent at the beach, fingers entangled as they let the coarse sand cling to their skin with the salty moisture of the sea. 

Nights spent tangled in damp sheets, thighs parted and bodies slick with sweat as they explore each other, fingers twisting in summer grown hair and trailing down sleek tanned skin in the heavy, moist air. 

Words of adoration and love whispered into the dark, licked and bitten into skin until they leave marks. Whimpers and groans and endless sounds of pleasure panted into swollen mouths. Bodies connected in a way that’s so incredible they ache with it, moving together as one until they burst, trembling in each other’s arms and never letting go. 

That’s what his summer has been like. 

Perfect.

And tomorrow it’s all over. Tomorrow they grow up. 

Bucky has a spring in his step as he turns the corner onto Steve’s street. Sweat makes his sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose and he pushes them up, squinting against the summer sun even through the dark lenses. 

He hears the lawnmower just before the scent of fresh cut grass hits his nose. Steve’s truck is parked in a crooked line against the curb, and Bucky trails his fingers along the side, feeling the sun warmed metal heat his fingertips.

The grass is green and springy as he walks across the front lawn, blades tickling his feet. The back gate is ajar and he shimmies through it, pushing his glasses up his nose again. Steve is mowing the lawn, shoulders bunching as he pushes the mower across the yard. He’s clothed in a grey running shirt that was at some point white, and black basketball shorts that barely stay on his narrow hips. His blonde hair, now longer in the summer, is curling sweat-damp at his neck and temples, clinging to golden skin. 

The sight of him still doesn’t fail to knock the air out of Bucky’s lungs. 

“Hey!” Bucky calls, scratching at his ankle with his toes and rubbing at his nose when the cut grass in the air makes him itch. Steve doesn’t hear him. Bucky cups his hands around his mouth and tries again. “Steve!” 

The mower cuts off, and the sudden silence is overwhelming for a few moments. Bucky grins when Steve looks over at him and wipes at the sweat gathering at the nape of his neck. Steve wipes his hands on his shorts and jogs over to him. 

“Sarah got you doing chores until the very end, huh?” Bucky laughs, and Steve rolls his eyes as he lifts Bucky’s chin with his fingers and gives him a quick kiss. “Hi.”

“I’m a slave,” Steve laments, kissing him again before stepping away. “Just go inside. I’ll be done in a few.” 

Bucky nods and heads through the back door, letting out a sigh of relief as he steps into the air-conditioned kitchen. The house is quiet and empty, and Bucky grabs a glass from the cabinet and fills it with cold water. He takes a long drink and pushes the window above the sink open. 

“Where is everybody?” Bucky calls out and Steve looks over at him, lifting his hand to shield his eyes. 

“Mom took Evie shopping for school clothes, and uh – our dads are golfing, I think,” Steve replies in a yell, and Bucky nods as Steve starts the lawnmower again. Bucky sips from his water glass and watches Steve work. He pauses to pull the shirt over his head, wiping the sweat from his face before stuffing it in the waistband of his shorts. The water glass slips from Bucky’s fingers and lands in the sink without breaking. Bucky curses and wipes his hand on his shorts, watching Steve intently through the window. 

Steve mows the large backyard methodically, one line of grass at a time. Bucky feels his dick stirring in his shorts, thickening and hardening just from the sight of Steve, so tall and strong out in the sun, sweat clinging to all the grooves and contours of his amazing body. Steve wipes the sweat from his face with his forearm, muscles bunching and rippling under shimmering skin. 

Skin that Bucky suddenly has to taste. 

He heads out the back door, stalking across the grass and pulling his shirt over his head. It falls to the ground and he grabs Steve’s arm, spinning him around. The mower cuts off and Steve’s questioning hum is silenced by Bucky’s lips, hard and insistent against his own. 

Steve chuckles lowly against Bucky’s mouth, wrapping muscled, sweaty arms around Bucky and pressing them together. The summer sun beats down on them, hot and unrelenting as Bucky drags them towards the tool shed in the back corner of the yard. The sweet smell of cut grass and blooming roses tints the air, mingling pleasantly with the scent of Steve’s sweat. 

Bucky slams Steve up against the back of the shed, and Steve hisses when his bare skin makes contact with heated plastic. They’re between the shed and the fence, hidden away and partially shaded from the bright sun. Bucky tucks his thigh between Steve’s legs and leans in to lick and suck the tang of sweat away from Steve’s slick skin. 

“Eager much?” Steve rasps, but he parts his legs and tilts his head to the side all the same. Bucky just growls; blood burning as he’s overtaken by raw, pure lust. He bites down on the thick tendon on Steve’s neck, licking away the sting when Steve hisses. 

“Your fault,” Bucky replies, voice thick and muffled against Steve’s collarbone. “So fucking hot.” 

Steve grabs him, thumbs digging into his jaw as he drags their mouths together, kissing the breath right out of Bucky. The kiss is amazing, powerful like a favorite song coming on the radio, making you crank up the volume until you shake with it. It’s familiar and exhilarating and still so fucking good every single time. 

Steve licks his way into Bucky’s mouth, tongues tangling, spit slick lips curving up into matching grins. Bucky reaches between them, feeling the sun burn the back of his neck as he cups Steve’s dick through his baggy basketball shorts. “Mm, you’re hard for me.” 

“I’m always hard for you,” Steve hisses, reaching back to palm Bucky’s ass and pull him closer. Sweat makes their skin slippery, and Steve tastes like salt and dirt and summer when Bucky bites at his jaw. “It’s starting to become a problem.” 

“Then I should probably take care of that,” Bucky replies, and Steve lets out a choking gasp as Bucky drops to his knees, right there in the grass. Steve’s eyes dart around and then land hard on Bucky, thumb smearing sweat across Bucky’s lips before he digs his fingers into Bucky’s messy hair. Bucky grins, licking his lips as he curls nimble fingers in the waistband of Steve’s shorts. He’s not wearing underwear and Bucky groans, licking and kissing at every bit of skin he reveals as he pulls Steve’s shorts down to expose his dick. 

He buries his face in the soft curls at the base of Steve’s cock and breathes in, smelling sweat and the musky, earthy aroma of Steve, the scent that makes his heart pound and his dick harden. He looks up at Steve, reaches between his legs and splays his fingers across Steve’s tight, perfect ass as he curls his other hand around the thick shaft. Little teasing kitten licks across the head, tongue digging greedily into the slit to gather the taste of pre-come there, and Steve jerks and groans. “Fuck, your mouth.”

The words send a rush of heat through Bucky, wind him up and make him moan. His fingers find the cleft of Steve’s ass, the tip of his index finger playing at his smooth hole, catching on tight muscle and pressing in. 

“Okay,” Bucky says, letting his mouth fall open around the head of Steve’s dick. Steve just stares down at him, squinting against the sun. He raises an eyebrow and pushes his finger up and in, nothing but sweat slicking the way. Steve lets out a hiss and jerks forward, dick slipping into Bucky’s mouth and hitting the back of his throat. Bucky makes a soft choking sound, spit slipping down his chin as his eyelashes flutter and he groans, loud and needy. 

He lets his hand fall away from Steve’s dick, tongue teasing the underside as he keeps his head perfectly still, finger still buried to the knuckle in Steve’s tight ass. Steve finally gets the picture, gripping Bucky by the ears and fucking into his mouth with short little bursts. Bucky moans, his free hand reaching down to cup himself through his shorts as he works his finger in and out of Steve’s ass.

Steve is pushing in so slowly, teasing and letting Bucky’s swollen lips catch and drag on velvet skin, and Bucky growls. He pulls his hand away from Steve’s ass and grabs his hips, slamming him against the side of the shed and bobbing up and down at his own pace, sucking greedily as his fingers slip on slick skin. 

“Bossy,” Steve grits out, pulling on Bucky’s hair when he just groans and slaps at his hip. Steve is so close. Bucky can feel it and his mouth waters, chin wet with spit as he waits. 

He’s surprised when Steve pushes him back, making his cock slip from the tight suction of Bucky’s mouth with an obscene pop. He lets out a needy whine and then Steve is hauling him up, spinning them around and slamming Bucky against the shed. Steve’s hands are shaky as they fumble with the button of Bucky’s shorts, finally getting them open and pushing them down. Bucky cries out with need as Steve slots their hips together, so slippery with sweat and the sticky fluid leaking from their cocks, and Steve rolls his hips against Bucky’s. He hooks his hand under Bucky’s knee and lifts his leg up, angling his hips so their dicks slip and slide against each other.

Bucky is sure he would fall if Steve didn’t have him pinned to the shed, and he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and holds on. Everything fades away until the only thing left is the roll of his hips, the crushing pressure of Steve’s mouth on his own – until nothing is left but pleasure.

“Feel good, having me up against you?” Steve whispers into his ear, biting down on the edge of it and licking away the sting. Bucky just nods helplessly, hands slipping along the sweaty expanse of his back. Steve nips at his ear once more before trailing his lips along his jaw. Bucky rolls his hips like he’ll die if he doesn’t get off, fire licking at his nerves as the sun burns his eyes. 

It’s amazing how quickly Steve can reduce him to this – a trembling, needy thing that begs and whimpers and gives himself up, opens up and lets Steve do whatever the hell he wants as long as he gets that cock, that mouth, whatever Steve will give him. 

The pleasure builds hot and lazy, just like the summer sun beating down on their shoulders. A bead of sweat rolls down Bucky’s neck and Steve’s tongue follows it down to his collarbone and then bites down, making Bucky gasp and push his hips forward. He fucks his cock into the groove of Steve’s hipbone, fingernails digging into slim hips, little red half moon imprints marring perfect golden skin. 

Steve pulls back just enough to work his arm between them, wrapping his giant hand around both of their dicks. His thumb is slippery across the heads as he jerks them both off, and Bucky keens and reaches down to tangle his fingers with Steve’s around their cocks, gripping and pulling. 

Steve’s other hand tangles in Bucky’s sweat-damp hair and pulls his head forward so he can pant hot and heavy into Bucky’s mouth, little hisses and grunts, kissing and licking when he can remember to move his lips. 

Bucky lets out a gasp, eyes snapping open and he isn’t sure if his vision whites out or if he’s just staring into the sun as his orgasm hits. He paints Steve’s hipbone with his come, thick and hot, and he smears it across their bellies as he clutches Steve even closer, whimpering through the aftershocks as Steve continues to rut against him. 

“Come on, baby,” Bucky pants, letting his hands slip slide down to Steve’s ass, cupping and squeezing and Steve buries his face in Bucky’s neck. He kisses and bites down, fucking his cock through the spunk on Bucky’s hips. Bucky’s fingers play at Steve’s hole, tracing furled muscle, and Steve tenses and comes with a choked shout. “Mm, yeah.” 

Steve sinks against Bucky, panting harshly against the sweaty curve of his neck. Bucky licks the sweat from his temple and kisses there, back slipping against the side of the shed. Steve pulls back with a grin, finding Bucky’s lips with his own as he reaches between them to slide his fingers through their combined fluids. He lifts his fingers to their mouths, slipping them between their lips and pushing their come into Bucky’s mouth with his tongue. Bucky sucks on Steve’s fingers greedily, hand wrapping around Steve’s wrist as he licks them clean. 

“Steve!” Bucky’s eyes pop open and he freezes, cheeks still hallowed out around Steve’s fingers. Steve’s head snaps up as he looks in the direction of the house, and Bucky lets out a sigh of relief when he realizes they are hidden from view. “Are you back here?” 

“Uh, yeah Mom!” Steve shouts, shrugging apologetically at Bucky when he just stares in disbelief. “What’s up?” 

“Are you gonna call Buck and have him help you finish packing or what?” Sarah calls, and Steve rolls his lips into his mouth as Bucky spits out his fingers. 

“I was planning on it!” Steve calls back, and Bucky narrows his eyes. The moment is officially over, and their sweat and spit and come cling uncomfortably to his skin. The smell of Sarah’s roses hit his nose, sickly sweet, and he nearly sneezes.

“You haven’t finished packing?” Bucky hisses, and Steve covers his mouth with his hand. Bucky splutters and licks messily at the inside of his palm. “We leave tomorrow,” Bucky adds, and he knows Steve can understand his muffled words. 

“It’s just – it’s sort of sad,” Steve admits, looking down at the ground. Bucky sighs and pulls Steve’s hand away, tangling their fingers together. “Will you please help?” 

“Yes,” Bucky relents, kissing Steve’s knuckles and dropping their hands. He wipes a hand across his belly and wrinkles his nose. “But I need a shower first, before I die of heat stroke.”

“Deal,” Steve replies, grinning widely and pulling up his shorts. Bucky pulls up his own and they share a soft kiss before they head for the back door. Bucky grabs his shirt and wipes his belly clean, blushing when they enter the kitchen and Sarah raises an eyebrow. 

“Uh, packing,” Bucky mumbles, and Steve laughs as they head for the stairs. Steve’s room is a mess, boxes half packed and scattered across the floor, belongings spilling out of his closet and off of his bed. 

“Where should we start?” Steve says softly, eyes locked on the photos above his bed. Bucky places his hand between Steve’s shoulder blades and gnaws on his bottom lip. 

“Shower,” Bucky reminds him gently, and Steve huffs out a sigh. Bucky leads them to the bathroom and turns on the water, letting it warm up and pushing Steve against the door to kiss the frown off of his face. 

It wasn’t easy packing up his things, either. Their perfect summer is over, and tomorrow they move out of their childhood homes to start a whole new chapter of their lives.

Tomorrow they grow up.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

It’s impossible to know just how many memories one room contains until you’re leaving it.

Bucky stands there in his childhood bedroom, and it’s not empty, not really. But everything that really defined it as his room is missing, packed up in boxes in the rental trailer downstairs. 

The bed is stripped of sheets, the closet empty, faint rectangles on the wall where posters protected the paint. His desk is empty, TV stand bare. It’s stupid, how sad he feels. 

It’s not like he’ll never sleep in this room again. He’s got weekends, and summers. 

But still, he looks at the faint purple stain on the carpet near his bed – remembers when they were eight and Steve spilled his juice and how they tried to hide it with a pile of stuffed animals. It’s going to be so weird, not falling asleep here every night. 

He doesn’t even want to begin to think about going weeks without seeing his mom, dad, and baby sister. 

Everything he knows is in this room, this house. His throat tightens as he thinks about leaving. The door opens then, and Bucky’s ears catch the familiar scratch of it against the hardwood. He knows it’s his mother because he can smell her perfume, vanilla and flowers. She comes to stand beside him, and he unabashedly rests his head on her shoulder. 

“Steve’s downstairs,” she says, and her voice sounds thick. “You ready to go?” 

“You okay?” Bucky asks, lifting his head to look his mom in the eye. Her eyes are red like she’s been crying. “Aw, mom. Don’t.”

“I’m fine,” she says, smiling softly. “My boys are all grown up. I’m allowed to be sad.” 

“You’ve still got Becca,” he reminds her, and she nods. “And it’s not like you’ll never see me. Ben technically moved out three years ago and he’s here so much it’s like he never left.” 

He hugs her then, inhales the scent of her perfume. God, he’s going to miss her. Steve bounds in then, feet heavy against the floor. He silently comes up behind them and wraps his arms around them both. 

“Come on, you guys,” he sniffs. “I just went through this with my mom. I can only take so much.” 

Bucky lets out a sniffling laugh as he pulls away from the hug. Steve gives him a peck on the cheek, one arm slung around his waist. Winnie smiles at them, warm and genuine. 

“You’re going to take care of each other, right?” She asks, and Steve and Bucky turn to smile at each other, lips pulled into wide grins. “Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you are.” 

“Come on, Bucky,” Steve says, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “Time to go.”

Ben and Garrett are there when their caravan pulls into the parking lot. It doesn’t take the group of them very long to get all of Steve and Bucky’s boxes inside their dorm room. It’s not too bad – a little small, but airy. It’s on the second floor with a nice view of the quad.

But there is one major issue. Bucky stands in the middle of the room, looking back and forth between the two tiny twin beds pushed up against opposite walls. They just don’t seem conducive to the kind of sex he’s used to having. He’s still eyeing them dubiously when Steve sidles up next to him. 

“I know,” he whispers, like he can read Bucky’s mind. “We’ll figure it out.” 

Everything has been brought up, boxes stacked in haphazard piles. Steve and Bucky spin on their heels to face two sets of parents trying to figure out how to say goodbye to their little boys. Ben and Garrett wait in the doorway, expressions sympathetic. Bucky takes a deep breath and steps forward. 

Here comes the hard part.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

The thing is, Bucky gets a little OCD at times, and apparently the dorm room is not up to snuff, cleanliness wise. He wipes down every surface and scrubs the floor while Steve sits in a desk chair and spins idly.

He knows what this is really about. Bucky is upset, scared, and nervous. They’re pretty much on their own now, and Bucky doesn’t really like being away from home for too long. If cleaning obsessively makes him feel better, he’s not going to judge.

“You could help,” Bucky says, turning to face Steve. He’s sweaty and disheveled, dressed in a form fitting sleeveless black tee and his red lacrosse shorts. He raises one eyebrow when Steve just stares. 

“Oh,” Steve says, looking around the room skeptically. “But you clean so good.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky replies, slamming a container of disinfectant wipes down on the desk. “Just put the sheets on the beds, okay?”

Steve nods and finds the box labeled bedding in Winnie’s tidy script. A thought hits him as he stretches brand new navy blue sheets across the bed on the right side of the room. He stands up, whirling to face Bucky.

“We’re not really going to sleep in separate beds, are we?” Steve asks, not even caring that he sounds sort of whiny. Bucky doesn’t even pause in his scrubbing of the windows. 

“Not unless you piss me off,” he says casually. “Or if you smell like the inside of an asshole.” 

“Fuck you,” Steve says, surreptitiously sniffing his armpit. “I smell good.” Bucky just snorts. 

Steve finishes putting the sheets on the bed, smoothing out the comforter and straightening the pillows. It looks too neat. It needs to be messed up. 

“Hey Bucky,” he says, and Bucky looks up from a box marked Bucky’s Clothes in Bucky’s own neat handwriting.  _ The are super duper gay!!  _ written underneath it is all Ben. “Are we gonna christen this bitch or what?” 

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Bucky says flatly, abandoning the clothes and grabbing a bottle of Windex and a roll of paper towels. “Watch me hurry in my desire to have you inside of me.” 

“But you’re not hurrying though,” Steve says, once it’s clear Bucky is entirely focused on making the windows shiny and streak-free. Bucky just shoots him a look, and hey, Steve knows that look. He is not retarded. 

“Because you’re an ass,” Bucky replies, and Steve smirks. He gets up and takes the Windex from Bucky and spins him around, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist. Bucky rests his palms on Steve’s chest, and he smells like cleaning products and dust but Steve doesn’t even care. 

“Guess what?” Steve says quietly, leaning in to skim his lips across Bucky’s cheek. 

“What?” Bucky replies softly, fingertips digging into Steve’s chest. 

“We pretty much live together,” Steve replies, kissing the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “You and me, on our own.”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, angling his mouth over Steve’s to kiss him. Steve sighs happily against Bucky’s lips, walking them back towards the one made bed. He pushes Bucky backwards and Bucky laughs as he falls back onto it, fingers twisted in Steve’s shirt. 

“Steve!” He says, but Steve cuts him off with another kiss. “We have to unpack,” he adds when Steve moves his lips to his neck. He sucks Bucky’s earlobe into his mouth, sucking softly. “Oh, you bitch.”

Steve chuckles when Bucky grips his shoulders, tipping his head back. He lets Steve kiss him for a while, soft little presses of lips against skin. When his fingers dip underneath the waistband of his shorts, he grabs Steve’s wrist to still it.

“We’re unpacking,” he says firmly when Steve growls in protest. “Just let me get this room together and I promise I will rock your world tonight. I’ll be so fucking good for you.”

“Yeah, using that fucked out voice is really going to make me lose wood,” Steve says derisively, rolling his eyes and flopping onto his back. “Whatever, princess. You denying me sex because you’d rather clean really bruises my ego, but I guess I’ll live.”

Bucky grins and kisses Steve softly before getting back on his feet. He produces a Swiffer sweeper from somewhere, and Steve huffs in amusement. 

“I think there was a soda machine in the lounge up the hall,” Bucky says as he starts to make the other bed. “Why don’t you go get us a few? And stop pouting, you baby.”

“Fine,” Steve says, rolling off of the bed and heading out into the hall. 

Since they were already so familiar with the campus and surrounding area, thanks to Ben and Garrett, they waited until pretty much the last minute to move in. Everyone else seems to be pretty much settled. People mingle in the hallways and almost every door is standing open, as if in invitation. 

The lounge isn’t that far from their room. It’s got a big screen TV, couches, an air hockey table, and vending machines. There are two girls sitting on one of the couches, and he gives them a friendly smile before heading to the soda machine. He has a few crumpled dollar bills in his pocket and the first one goes in, but the machine seems dead set against taking another. He tries flattening them against the side of it, but to no avail. He blows his bangs out of his eyes and stares the machine down threateningly. 

“Here,” a voice says, and Steve turns to see a fresh, crisp dollar bill in his face. He takes it from the girl and hands her one of his crumpled ones. 

“Thanks,” Steve says, letting out a triumphant whoop as the machine accepts it. “I’m Steve,” he says, reaching out to shake her hand before stooping down to grab the drinks. 

“Sharon,” she says sweetly. She’s a pretty girl, big chocolate brown eyes and long, flowing blonde hair. “This your floor?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. “Just got here this morning.” 

“Oh, awesome!” She says, flipping her hair over one shoulder. Steve bites his lip to keep from grinning. “I’m in room 213.”

“Oh, we’re neighbors then,” Steve replies, smiling at her. “I’m in 214.” 

“Great,” she says, grinning like this is the best news she’s ever heard. Steve holds up the sodas currently numbing his hands and gestures down the hall. She lights up, obviously interpreting this as an invitation.

“So are you from the area?” Steve asks, slipping the sodas in the pockets of his shorts. She twirls her hair around one finger. 

“No. San Francisco, actually,” she replies. The mere mention of the city has Steve cracking up, remembering the last time he was there. Sometimes Ben and Garrett’s faces the morning after their impromptu drunken threesome will pop up in his head randomly and he can’t help but laugh. “What?” 

“No, I’m sorry,” Steve snorts, laughing into his palm. “I was just up there, and it made me think of something funny.” 

“Oh,” she replies, stopping in front of her room. She opens the door and steps inside, looking at Steve over her shoulder. “Wanna come in?” 

“Uh, no thanks,” Steve says quickly, taking a step back. “I have a lot of unpacking to do.”

“Oh,” she says again, pouting slightly. She turns and leans against the doorframe, batting her eyelashes at him. “Well it was nice to meet you, Steve.”

“You too, Sharon,” he replies politely. She laughs and rocks up onto the balls of her feet, flipping her hair over one shoulder. 

“Feel free to stop by anytime,” she says, biting on her fleshy bottom lip. Steve lets out a low chuckle and rocks back on his heels. He recognizes this look, knows it all too well. It’s still sort of weird to him sometimes, getting all this attention from girls when not too long ago he was a short little beanpole.

But he’s been with Bucky long enough now to know when it’s okay to flirt back a little and when it will cause him trouble. And this girl? She just looks like trouble. 

He takes a step back, angling his body slightly away from her in what he hopes comes across as a thanks, but no thanks sort of pose. 

“Uh, well. As long as we’re doing the whole meet and greet thing,” Steve says quickly, taking another step back. He turns his head, cupping one hand around his mouth. “Hey Buck! Come meet our new neighbor!”

Sharon sticks her head out into the hallway, eyes narrowing. Bucky comes out of their room, looking gorgeous and bedraggled, sweaty from unpacking in the stuffy little dorm room. Sharon raises one perfectly groomed eyebrow as he approaches. 

“You bellowed, dear?” Bucky asks sardonically, coming to stand at Steve’s side. Steve smirks and drapes an arm over his shoulders. The sooner Steve establishes just how off limits he is, the better. He seriously doesn’t like the hungry look in this girl’s eyes. 

“I did. Bucky, this is Sharon,” he says, tucking Bucky’s hair behind one ear. It’s just barely long enough to do that now, and Steve gets the bad feeling that he’s going to cut it soon. “Sharon, this is my boyfriend slash roommate, Bucky.”

“Oh,” she says shortly, thinly concealed disappointment coloring her tone. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Bucky replies, turning to Steve slightly to raise an amused eyebrow. He smirks and wraps his arm around Steve’s waist; thumb tucked in the waistband of his basketball shorts. Steve bites his lip to stifle a laugh. A jealous Bucky can be a dangerous Bucky. Or a really, really fun one. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” she says distractedly. “Well, I’ve gotta, um.” She hooks her thumb behind her. “It was nice to meet you, Steve,” she says, giving Steve one last lingering look. “And, uh, Bucky.” 

She barely glances at Bucky before going in her room and shutting the door. Bucky turns to muffle his laughter against Steve’s shoulder, fingers wrapping around his wrist, casual but possessive. Steve rolls his eyes and leads them back down the hall, immensely grateful she caught Bucky in a good mood. Bucky can be a jealous little bitch sometimes, but he’s certainly not the only one. Steve is also guilty of having a possessive streak a mile wide. 

“Someone has a crush on you,” Bucky singsongs once they’re back in the room. Steve shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Looks like you’re gonna have to kick her ass,” Steve says, shaking his head in mock displeasure as he takes the sodas out of his pockets and sets them on the dresser. “Defend my honor.”

Bucky sighs, put upon. “I get so tired of defending your honor.”

“Well, that’s what you get for having a fucking Adonis as your boyfriend,” Steve says, stepping into Bucky’s personal space and gesturing towards his face. “Look at this bone structure, Bucky. My beauty is a curse.”

“You wanna talk about bone structure?” Bucky replies, pushing Steve back a little and sliding his fingertips across his chin. “Look at my jaw, Steve. I am fucking gorgeous.”

“Agreed,” Steve says, eyes growing a little dark as he pushes Bucky back towards one of the twin sized beds. “We’re both stunningly beautiful and everyone should be jealous.”

“Exactly,” Bucky says, falling backwards on the bed. Steve crawls on top of him, straddling his lap. 

“Your lips,” Steve points out, his breath a warm kiss on the bridge of Bucky’s nose. 

“Your eyes,” Bucky counters, fingertip stroking across Steve’s brow. 

“Your eyes,” Steve says, kissing Bucky softly. 

“Your hands,” Bucky breathes, gasping softly when Steve squeezes his hips. They kiss eagerly then, hands stroking across skin, tangling in hair. Steve slides his hands under Bucky to flip them over, his signature move. But when he goes to roll, he slips off the edge of the bed. Bucky grabs his arm and tries to keep him from falling, laughing wildly, but he’s not quick enough and Steve hits the floor with a thump.

“Yeah, these fucking beds are going to be a problem,” Steve growls, and Bucky laughs again as he pokes his head over the side of the bed. Steve surges up onto his knees, kissing Bucky soundly and wrapping his arms around him.

“Your laugh,” Steve whispers, and then promptly pulls him down onto the floor.

They’ll just have to make do.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

“Fuck you, Steve,” Bucky says later as Steve kisses his way down Bucky’s bare stomach. “I let you fuck me. Now you have to let me unpack my stuff.”

“Don’t wanna,” Steve says, tongue dipping into Bucky’s navel. Bucky whines, tugging on Steve’s hair. “Shut up and let me blow you, bitch.”

“No means no, asshole,” Bucky says, rolling away from Steve’s questing tongue. He gets up and throws his clothes back on, despite Steve’s disbelieving look. “I have to pee,” he admits, and Steve lets his head fall to the floor with a thunk. 

“Have fun,” Steve replies, and Bucky checks himself in the mirror. His hair is mussed and he’s still a little pink and sweaty, but it’s not like he needs to look good to go use the can. 

He slips out of their room and heads down the hallway, hoping no one tries to engage him in conversation. He makes it to the restroom (and seriously, fuck communal bathrooms) and gets out quickly. He rounds a corner and smacks right into a broad chest. 

“Whoa!” The guy shouts, reaching out to grab Bucky’s shoulders to steady him. Bucky blushes and shrugs out of his grip.

“Sorry, dude,” he says, looking up at him. The guy’s eyes widen slightly.

“You have nothing to apologize for, seriously,” he says, looking Bucky up and down. He’s so blatantly checking him out that Bucky clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. “You on this floor?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky replies, scratching the back of his head. “Just moved in today.”

“And the angels smiled down upon me,” he says, and places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I should warn you right now. I see myself developing quite a crush on you,” he says, and Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Not to worry, though. You’re completely out of my league, so I will just admire you from afar. Like a precious jewel.”

“I’m not sure whether to thank you or be really creeped out, to be honest,” Bucky says, chuckling awkwardly. The guy grins, and Bucky realizes he’s not that out of his league. They’re about the same height and build, and the guy has messy light brown hair and awesome hazel eyes. He’s actually really hot. 

He doesn’t hold a candle to Steve, of course, but he’s not bad to look at. 

“I think a decent mixture of both would be healthy,” he responds, and holds out his hand. “I’m Wade.”

“Bucky,” he replies, shaking his hand. There’s something about this guy that Bucky immediately likes. He’s hilarious, for one. That’s sort of a deal breaker for him. Flattery doesn’t hurt, either.

Steve comes out of their room then, clad in a pair of clingy grey lounge pants and a white wifebeater, which in Bucky’s opinion is the hottest outfit he could ever wear. He really hit the gym hard this summer, and it’s evident by the sinewy muscles rippling under his tan skin. 

“Steve!” Bucky calls, waving him over. Steve walks over and raises an eyebrow.

“Holy shit. Did you make a friend all by yourself?” Steve asks, clearly amused as he throws a casual, yet possessive arm over Bucky’s shoulders.

“I think so. This is Wade,” he says, gesturing towards him. “And this is my boyfriend, Steve.” 

“Hey!” Wade says brightly, reaching out to shake Steve’s hand. “What’s up? Bucky and I were just talking about how I have no attraction towards him whatsoever!”

“Wade has a crush on me already,” Bucky says, sighing like this is a great burden before throwing Wade a wink.

“Is that so?” Steve asks, amused. Wade laughs nervously. 

“That was before I knew you had a boyfriend that could snap me like a twig,” Wade says, grinning cheekily. “Now you’re just that dude down the hall. I can turn it off that quick.”

“Good to know,” Steve laughs. Wade looks at them for a moment before snapping his fingers and pointing.

“Wait a minute,” he says. “Bucky and Steve? As in Ben and Garrett’s kid brothers?” 

“That would be us,” Steve says with a smirk. They’ll never outgrow the curse (and okay, sometimes blessing) of being known as Ben and Garrett’s kid brothers. Bucky isn’t surprised that Wade knows their brothers. He seems like the kind of guy that they would get along famously with. “Hey, come to our room. Maybe some company will get Bucky to stop cleaning for five goddamn seconds.” 

“Sure,” Wade says, following Steve and Bucky into their room. “They told me you guys were starting this year, and that you were screwing each other silly. Didn’t mention you both were so damn adorable. Though, I guess as your immediate family they wouldn’t.”

“Probably not,” Steve smirks, and Wade leans against the wall. There is a knock on the slightly open door and a guy pushes it open, nearly smacking Wade in the face. 

“Hey guys! You must be Steve and Bucky,” the guy says brightly. “I’m Peter Parker, your resident advisor. You’re the last to move in. Almost thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“Hey,” Steve replies cheerily. “I’m Steve and this is Bucky,” he adds, nudging Bucky with his elbow. Bucky socks him in the hip and gives Peter a little wave. 

“So you two know each other already then?” Peter asks, obviously picking up on the camaraderie between them. Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky, who lets out an amused snort. What a loaded question. 

“Since birth, actually,” Bucky says, and Peter grins widely. He is absolutely adorable, despite being a few years older than Bucky. 

“Well good,” Peter says, rocking back on his heels and checking his watch. Underneath the grin he looks stressed out and Bucky nearly laughs. “That’ll make things easier. Well, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m in room 202 if you ever need anything, and I wanted to let you know that we’re going to have a floor meeting tomorrow at seven.” 

He still hasn’t noticed Wade lurking behind him, and Wade puts a finger to his lips as he edges closer to Peter. Bucky raises an eyebrow but says nothing, half listening as Peter talks. Wade is literally right behind him, peering over his shoulder. 

“It’ll be in the lounge,” Peter continues, and Wade leans forward slightly until his lips are nearly brushing Peter’s neck. Bucky bites his lip to keep from laughing. “Just a little gathering so everyone can introduce themselves and – Jesus Chris, Wilson!” 

Wade busts up laughing and Steve and Bucky join in as Peter puts his hand over his heart and glares at Wade. 

“You jerk. Almost gave me a heart attack,” he grits out, huffing when Wade slings an arm over his shoulders. 

“Our delicate little flower. ,” Wade says delightedly, placing his palm over Peter’s heart. “You can cut the camp counselor bullshit. These are Ben and Garrett’s brothers.” 

“Really?” Peter says, looking over at them. He sighs and sags in relief, edging out from under Wade’s arm. “Thank goodness. It’s hard being so damn cheerful.”

“Oh, you and Bucky are going to get along splendidly,” Steve snorts, and Bucky stomps on his foot. “So, small world it seems.”

“Not really,” Peter says, rolling his neck back and forth. He looks like a completely different person already. He’s attractive, slight with tan skin and brown hair. His eyes are a beautiful deep brown. “It’s just that your brothers are the sort of people everyone at least knows of. And Wade is our resident Van Wilder.”

“If by that you mean that I’m attractive, witty, and helpful,” Wade says haughtily, “then thank you. I’m flattered.” 

“By that I mean that you’re never going to leave,” Peter replies, rolling his eyes. Wade smirks and then bites his bottom lip, eyes flashing bright. 

“You’ll miss me when I’m gone,” Wade says, punching Peter’s shoulder. “One hundred percent guaranteed.”

“At the rate you’re going, you’ll be the one missing me.”

“Well, I was planning on graduating this year, but maybe I’ll stick around if you’re gonna keep being so feisty,” Wade says teasingly, and Peter wrinkles his nose. “Anyway, we should let these kids unpack. Because if I know their brothers, and believe me, I do, then they’ll be over here later to have their own little welcoming party.”

“Fantastic,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. Wade comes over and puts his hands on Steve and Bucky’s shoulders. 

“I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship,” Wade tells them, leaning in close. Steve and Bucky both lean back a little, sharing a quick glance. “Look, I’m in room 209 if you need anything. Don’t bother going to this guy.”

“Screw you, Wade,” Peter says with feeling, and then gives Steve and Bucky a genuine smile before he walks out of the room. Bucky cocks his head to the side. He certainly seems interesting. 

“Seriously,” Wade says again. “Anything.” He winks at them and leaves the room, shutting the door with a soft click behind him. 

“Well,” Steve says loudly, laughing a little. “That was interesting. Now what do we do?”

“We un-fucking-pack,” Bucky says, opening a box and pulling out his gorgeous, expensive, life saving coffee maker. He hugs it, just a little, before setting it in a place of honor on the desk. 

“I’m jealous of a coffee maker,” Steve sighs. “Guess you’ll have to fuck me good and hard, prove it’s really me you love.”

“Unpack, Steve! Shit!” 

“Fine!”

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

A few hours later everything is mostly unpacked and the room is starting to look more put together. Bucky banned Steve from touching anything after he nearly dropped the microwave, so now he’s working on rebuilding his photo and sketching collage on the wall over the desk.

It’s something he started a few years ago, back when he really got into art. The sketches are mostly of him and Bucky, with various pictures of their other friends mixed in. It makes Steve insanely happy to see drawings of them when they were little mixed in with pictures of them taken recently. It’s obvious how much they’ve always loved each other, even in photographs and drawings. It’s easy to see how that love progressed into what they have now, something all encompassing and wildly strong. Their future is plain to see, just by looking at photos of the past. 

He’s adding a picture of Bucky at the beach when there is a sudden loud banging at their door. Bucky sighs and hangs up a shirt in Steve’s closet. 

“Steve! Bucky! Steve! Bucky!” Ben’s voice filters through the wood, loud and booming. “Put on some clothes and open the door!” 

Steve gets down off of the desk and gives Bucky a helpless shrug as he goes to answer the door. 

“Must you be so goddamn loud?” Steve asks, coming face to face with the grinning faces of Ben and Garrett. 

“We brought you a dorm warming present!” Garrett says gleefully, holding something out in front of him. It takes Steve a second to put together what exactly it is. It’s a condom tree. No, really. There’s a pot with green wires coming out of it, and where there should be leaves there are instead condoms. Steve rolls his eyes. 

“It’s decorative!” Ben adds, nodding happily. Wade opens his door then, peering out to see what all the commotion is. 

“Dudes!” Wade exclaims, coming out of his room and shutting the door. He shares a fist bump with each of them and nods at the tree. “Nice foliage.” 

“Creative,” Bucky says, finally coming to stand at Steve’s side. More people are sticking their heads out of their rooms now, including Sharon and a scary brunette girl that must be her roommate. “I don’t even want to know where you got that.”

“Probably not,” Ben replies, and they soon hear Peter’s voice filtering down the hall. 

“Okay, guys. It’s about ten o’clock and I just wanted to remind you that you need to be quiet in the halls after that time.” He’s using his cheerful voice, and Wade snickers. “Oh, it’s you assholes,” he adds in a lower octave once he sees who it is.

“Peter!” Garrett greets him, reaching out to pull him closer. 

“Can you guys get in the room and quit being so obnoxious out in the hallway, please?” Peter asks. 

“For you,” Wade coos, touching the tip of Peter’s nose before pushing past Steve and Bucky. They all file in and Steve sees the curious looks of quite a few people out in the hall, quite possibly wondering why a bunch of seniors and their RA are all cramming in the room of a few measly freshmen. Steve gives Sharon a nod before shutting the door. 

“Lookin’ good, boys,” Wade says as he looks around the room. His eyes catch on Steve’s collage and he walks over to look at it. 

“I knew it wouldn’t take long for you guys to meet Wade,” Garrett says, setting the condom tree on the desk. Steve thinks it would almost be worth the expressions on their faces to tell them that the only time they use condoms anymore are when they’re worried about the mess, but he remains quiet. 

“It doesn’t take anyone long to meet Wade,” Peter mumbles, shooting Wade a look. “Can I trust you guys not to burn down the dorm if I leave?” 

“You have our word,” Ben says solemnly, one hand on his chest.

“And not only have they met me,” Wade says, picking up on the earlier comment. “I have chosen them.”

“For what?” Bucky asks dubiously, raising an eyebrow. Wade grins, wide and happy. It’s sort of terrifying.

“As a senior,” Wade starts, holding his index finger high in the air. Ben slaps it down, making guns with his hands and pointing them at Wade. 

“Super senior,” Ben corrects, grinning wickedly. Wade turns to look at him, blue eyes narrowing slightly.

“Thank you, Benjamin,” Wade replies scathingly. “I appreciate that. Anyway, as I was saying. As a senior who shares a floor with them, I think it’s vital that I take young Steve and Bucky here under my wing, that I show them the way. They’re just baby birds after all, and they need to be fed.”

“Is that really necessary?” Bucky asks, looking pleadingly at his brother as he scoots closer to Steve.

“It is!” Wade responds fervently. “Plus, I fit seamlessly into your little physically exclusive group. We’re all tall guys here. Although, I think it’s safe to say that Bucky was the clear winner in this certain gene pool.”

“Well, that’s true,” Bucky allows, grinning when Steve hums in agreement.

“Yeah,” Garrett says thoughtfully. “Bucky is the fairest of them all.”

“He’s a pretty, pretty princess,” Steve adds, giving Bucky a little squeeze.

“Goddamn it, Bucky!” Ben bellows. “Will you please stop attracting every cock in town? I’m getting really sick of threatening all my friends!”

“Whoa, hey!” Wade shouts. “I admire Bucky’s beauty in a purely aesthetic way.”

“It better stay that way,” Steve says, giving Wade a mock threatening glare. Ben and Garrett roll their eyes. 

“Whatever,” Ben adds. “We’re getting out of here. But if you need anything ask Wade. Seriously. He knows pretty much all there is to know. Going here for thirty-two years will do that to a person.”

“Oh, exaggerating for comedic purposes,” Wade replies sarcastically. “I wish I had thought of that. It’s so clever. Dick.”

The three boys file out of the door without really saying goodbye and Steve and Bucky turn towards each other. They’re quiet for a second before they start laughing, shrugging helplessly. 

Yeah, it’s going to be an interesting year.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Their first official week of college classes goes by smoothly. They’re each taking five, and they share two. Bucky has Drama with Natasha, History with Steve, and Intro to Psych with Steve and Sam.

Most of his professors are fine, but he sort of wants to beat his Biology professor to death with a brick. In the face. He’s so annoying. But then again, Bucky finds most people annoying, so perhaps he isn’t the best judge of character. 

Smoothly as things may have gone, it was still a very stressful and hectic week after a long and lazy summer. It’s Friday night and as of right now, they don’t have any plans. 

Bucky is lazing on his bed, flicking through the channels as he waits for Steve to come home. His last class ended at five, if Bucky remembers correctly, so he should be back any minute.

It’s nearly half past when Steve trudges inside the room, flinging his backpack in the general direction of his bed. His shoulders are all bunched up and he’s got his puppy eyes already in place, like he was practicing on the way home. Bucky raises an eyebrow. 

“Hi,” Steve says miserably, rolling his shoulders and stretching. Bucky smirks. This is Steve’s less than subtle way of demanding a massage. 

Ever since Bucky divulged his desire to become a physical therapist back when they were fifteen, Steve has been soliciting him for massages. It was the worst form of torture after he realized his feelings for Steve. He hated giving them, being able to put his hands on all that skin and not be able to really touch him. 

He started refusing when Steve asked, just trying to spare his sanity. Watching Steve pout and twist leads Bucky to believe that Steve never put two and two together, never realized the massages stopped right around the time Bucky fell in love with him. 

“Back hurt?” Bucky asks, and Steve looks over and gives him a pathetic nod. “I told you not to carry so much shit around.”

“I know,” Steve replies, kicking ineffectually at his backpack. Bucky laughs and turns off the television, dropping the remote on the floor as he rolls off of the bed. He walks over to Steve, rubs his hands over his broad back, and kneads lightly at his shoulders. 

“You’re really tense,” Bucky says lowly, pressing his fist in against the base of Steve’s spine and making him hiss. “Put down a towel and lay on my bed,” Bucky instructs, and Steve nods gratefully. 

Bucky opens their door and grabs the marker from their whiteboard. He writes Leave us the hell alone. Yes, even you, Ben and Garrett. (Especially Wade.) and shuts the door, locking it behind him. 

Steve is on Bucky’s bed, lying on his stomach with his arms crossed under his head. He’s stripped down to his underwear, a pair of black boxer briefs, and heat simmers low in Bucky’s belly. 

Bucky pulls off his own tee shirt, leaving him only in a pair of black lounge pants. He flicks off the light and draws the curtains, leaving the room dim. After putting something soft on the stereo, he pulls a box out from under his bed. It contains their oils and lubes, pretty much anything sex related. 

He straddles Steve’s hips and sits on his ass, setting the box down next to him and flipping the lid off. He rummages through the different massage oils, eyes landing on the glass dildo they bought in Big Sur. Steve used it on Bucky once over the summer, and Bucky’s lips curve up at the memory. 

He chooses an oil and dribbles some on Steve’s back and then in his hands, warming it between his palms before he reaches down to spread it across Steve’s skin. Steve sighs contentedly when Bucky starts kneading at the firm muscles where his shoulders meet his neck, thumbs rubbing hard circles into his spine. 

Steve relaxes against the bed as Bucky works, nearly silent. Bucky lets his hands slide down the slippery expanse of Steve’s back, fingers digging into hard muscle. Steve lets out a tiny moan, hissing slightly as Bucky works out a knot of muscle near the base of his spine. 

Half an hour later, Steve is absolute putty in his hands. His back, neck, shoulders, and arms are slick with oil and he’s breathing deep and even. Bucky is leaking in his pants, and Steve must be aware of how hard he is, cock rocking against his ass every time Bucky slides his hands up to knead at his shoulders. 

Steve has his head turned to the side; blue eyes closed and lips bitten red. Bucky knows he’s hard, can tell by the way he keeps shifting his hips against the bed. He’s so loose and relaxed, so pliant under Bucky’s talented hands. 

Bucky lifts himself up on his knees and scoots back a little, sliding his hands down Steve’s flanks to hook his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear. Steve wordlessly lifts his hips, slow and lazy, to let Bucky pull them down and off. 

There’s a wet spot at the front of Bucky’s thin pants that only grows when he starts to knead the firm globes of Steve’s ass. He slides his thumbs along the creases of Steve’s thighs, fingertips trailing between his cheeks. 

Steve’s breath hitches when Bucky leans down to press a soft kiss to the base of his spine, tasting oil and sweat. Steve spreads his legs a little, but otherwise doesn’t move. Bucky trails his tongue down between Steve’s cheeks to his hole, spreading them with his thumbs as he laps at the tightly furled muscle. It’s been a little while since Steve’s done this, and he’s so fucking tight every damn time. 

Steve sighs deeply, boneless and pliant, letting Bucky do whatever he wants. Bucky tongues at his hole for a little while, lapping and sucking until he can slide it inside, curl it upwards and make Steve gasp. 

Bucky sits up and grabs the massage oil, drizzling some on his fingers. He reaches down to rub it into Steve’s hole, getting it nice and slick before pressing one finger in to the knuckle. Steve lets out a tiny noise, hips tilting up a little. Bucky fingers him lazily, sliding two fingers in and rubbing them against Steve’s prostate insistently. Steve moans brokenly, fingers digging into the sheets. 

Bucky eyes the glass dildo in the box, biting his lip as he reaches over and grabs it with his free hand. He pulls his fingers free and coats the toy with oil, stroking it until it’s warm and slick. He leans forward to press the tip of it between Steve’s shoulder blades, smooth glass sliding along slick skin. Steve slowly blinks his eyes open but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even turn his head to verify what the object is. 

The trust Steve has in him turns him on more than anything, cock leaking as he trails the dildo in a serpentine pattern down Steve’s back. He settles between Steve’s legs, spreading them a little and grabbing a stray pillow. 

“Lift up,” Bucky says softly, afraid anything above a whisper will shatter the mood. Steve raises his hips and Bucky folds the pillow in half and slides it underneath him. Steve hisses as it brushes his hard cock, but he settles down onto it without complaint. 

“Relax,” Bucky commands gently, sliding the toy down between Steve’s cheeks, pressing it teasingly against his hole. Steve whimpers a little, eyes slipping shut again. Bucky uses his free hand to spread his cheeks, twisting the smooth head of the toy a little before pushing it in. Bucky’s eyes light up as he watches Steve take the toy easily. It slides in without any hesitation; pink muscle parting around the translucent glass. 

Steve moans, soft and broken, ass tilting up. Bucky pushes it all the way in to the base – holds it there with his thumb and wiggles it a little. Steve is breathing heavier now, panting against the sheets as he twists his fingers in them. 

Bucky lets go of the toy, watches with rapt fascination as it slides back out of Steve’s ass. He grips the end of it and starts fucking Steve with long, slow strokes. The sight is almost too much to handle, his cock curving up insistently and leaking steadily. He leans down to tongue at the shiny pink rim of Steve’s ass, moaning at the texture of it, stretched so wide and open. 

He pulls the toy all of the way out, circles Steve’s hole a few times and pushes it back in suddenly, angles it so the tip presses firmly against Steve’s prostate. He moans loudly, thighs trembling slightly. 

Bucky holds the toy in with one hand, keeping insistent pressure against that spot in Steve as he pushes his pants down with his other hand. He kicks them off and lubes his bare cock, hissing as he wraps his hand around it. He squeezes the base for a moment, trying to get control over himself. It’s not that often he gets to do this, and he wants to make it last. 

It’s not that Steve doesn’t enjoy bottoming; he does as far as Bucky knows. But Bucky loves it, needs that cock in him more than anything and it’s not too often he finds himself wanting it the other way around. 

But right now? He wants to fuck Steve’s pretty ass until he screams. 

Steve is panting, moaning as he shifts his hips, trying to get away from the intense, unrelenting pressure of the toy against his prostate. Bucky fucks it in and out of him a few more times as he positions himself. He presses the toy in as far as it will go, holding it there as he grips his own cock and circles it around the base of the toy, paints the stretched rim of Steve’s ass with his pre-come. Steve moans, desperate and low, hips pressing back. Bucky lets his index finger slide up the toy, fingers the rim of his ass before slipping it in alongside it. 

Steve has never been so fucking loose, and Bucky knows he could stretch him wider, slide his cock in right alongside the toy and Steve would let him. He would fucking beg for it. 

“Please,” Steve pants, burying his face in the pillow. Bucky’s eyes snap up at that, eyeing the graceful arch of his spine. He looks back down, slides the toy and his finger out of Steve’s ass, not giving him a second’s rest before pushing his cock inside. He bottoms out, hips snug against Steve’s ass. Steve lets out a long, low moan, turning his head to the side as he presses back against Bucky. 

“Feels so good,” Steve pants, dark eyes blinking open. Bucky drapes himself over Steve, chest sliding smoothly across his slick back. He presses a kiss to the back of Steve’s neck as he starts to fuck in and out, his thrusts slow and deep. 

Steve groans, stretching his arms out in front of him to grip the headboard. Bucky pins Steve’s hips to the bed, forces Steve to let him do all the work. Once he’s sure Steve won’t try to move, he slides his hands up Steve’s muscular arms, closing his hands over Steve’s as he grips the headboard. 

“Fuck, Steve. Fuck,” Bucky pants, pressing his forehead against the back of Steve’s neck, biting softly at the skin there. 

“Close,” Steve pants, starting to rut against the bed. Bucky doesn’t move his hands to help him, hoping the bed will provide enough friction to get him off. Or that he’ll come on Bucky’s cock alone. 

“Let me feel it,” Bucky breathes into Steve’s ear, surging forward to press sloppy kisses to Steve’s jaw. He angles his hips, pounding harder into Steve, aiming for his prostate on every stroke. Steve cries out, throwing his head back as he tenses. Bucky can feel Steve’s ass clench down onto his dick hard with every wave of his orgasm. 

Bucky shouts out, bites down hard on Steve’s shoulder as his own orgasm hits him. He comes deep inside of Steve, hips jerking as he does so. He collapses fully on top of Steve, panting harshly against the side of his neck. 

Steve’s chest is heaving below him, legs trembling as he comes down. Bucky pulls his hands away from the headboard and grips Steve’s hip, one hand on his dick as he pulls out. Steve whimpers a little, and Bucky’s eyes are fixed on his hole, still clenching slightly. Come leaks out of him, running down to coat his balls. Bucky scoops some of it up on his finger and sucks it clean with an appreciative moan. 

He gets a glint in his eye and slides two fingers into Steve’s fucked out hole, gets them nice and messy before he sprawls out on top of Steve again. He reaches up, painting Steve’s lips with the mixture before sliding his fingers into his willing mouth. 

Steve turns his head, sucking hard on Bucky’s fingers, biting at the tips. Bucky pulls his fingers out and surges up, kissing him and tasting spit, come, and massage oil as their tongues tangle lazily. 

Eventually, Bucky takes pity on Steve’s neck and slides off of him, rolling onto his side of the narrow bed. Steve stays on his stomach, but he removes the pillow and tosses it on the floor. Bucky smirks, sliding his fingers back and forth across Steve’s slick skin. 

“Are you nice and relaxed?” Bucky asks; voice fucked out and raw. Steve lets out a snort, turning his head to the side to peer at Bucky with heavy lidded eyes. 

“That’s one way of putting it,” he mumbles roughly, eyes slipping shut. “’M never movin’ again. Thanks, baby.” 

Bucky chuckles and gets up on his knees, rolling Steve to the side and pulling the towel out from under him. He wipes as much of the oil as he can from their bodies and cleans gently between Steve’s legs. 

“You have to wash my sheets,” Bucky says once he lies back down next to Steve. He wraps one arm around Steve’s shoulders, pulls him close and smiles as Steve tucks his head under Bucky’s jaw. 

“Do it when I wake up,” Steve replies sleepily. “In like a week. Shh.”

Bucky smiles fondly, pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s temple as he drifts to sleep. It’s not long before the gently rhythm of Steve’s breathing lulls him to sleep as well. It may be their first Friday night as college students, but there’s nothing he’d rather be doing than taking a nap in his boyfriend’s arms.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

It doesn’t take Bucky long to figure out that college is a lot like high school without the parental supervision. It’s not the  same , not at all. But there are definite similarities. Bucky spends his time going to class, doing homework, getting drunk with his friends, and being with Steve.

It takes a few weeks for him to settle into a routine, and once he feels he’s got his classes down he takes a job at the used bookstore on campus. It’s only fifteen to twenty hours a week, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm himself right off the bat. But he wouldn’t mind a little extra spending money. 

Of course, this means he gets less boyfriend time. They were pretty good at synchronizing their schedules so they’re in class around the same times, but there are days when it’s late in the evening by the time he can stop and take a breath, just relax and say hi. 

Thursdays are good, because somehow the stars aligned and everyone’s schedules synched up in such a way that they’re able to have lunch together. That’s when it feels the most like high school, when Bucky doesn’t have to think about his realization that every action he takes from here on out is all on him. There is no one to fix his problems now, and he can’t afford to fuck up. 

It’s a lot to take in. 

He’s exhausted as he leaves his Drama class with Natasha. He was up late with Steve, and then worked an early morning shift at the bookstore before class. His schedule there is erratic at best, but it works. The manager is sympathetic and flexible, and sticks him in wherever there are holes in his daily schedule so he doesn’t have to work at night. For that, he’s eternally grateful. 

The sun is bright, hanging high in the sky as September draws to a close. It’s warm and balmy, classic LA weather. The familiar scent of smog lingers in the air and Bucky takes a deep breath of what he grew up thinking was fresh air. 

Natasha jumps on Bucky’s back then, distracting him from his thoughts. She laughs in his ear and loops her arms around his neck, and he laughs as he hooks his hands under her knees to hold her up. 

This is also something that baffles him, his friendship with Natasha. They had all started hanging out a lot over the summer, thanks in part to Sam dating Wanda, who happens to be Natasha’s best friend. Bucky had thought it would be terribly awkward back when it all started, but it was like Steve had never had any feelings for her at all. Not that Bucky thought he would continue to lust over Natasha once they were together, but he’s man enough to admit he was worried about what would come of the situation.

As it turns out, he had no need to worry at all. Steve only has eyes for him, and he now regards Natasha as only a friend. What’s really surprising is how much he and Natasha bonded once the jealousy that once clouded his vision of her was gone. This tiny, fun, sometimes terrifying girl somehow wormed her way into his life, and she seems to have no intentions of leaving. 

“Are you gonna do the fall play, Buck?” Natasha asks as Bucky gives her a piggyback ride to their usual spot. It’s not like it’s much of a chore. She weighs next to nothing. “You should try out with me. I’m totally gonna land the female lead.”

“You just want me to be the male lead so you can make out with me,” Bucky jokes, hoisting Natasha up higher on his back. “Don’t front.”

“Well, duh,” Natasha replies without skipping a beat. “So are you gonna or not?” 

“I don’t know,” Bucky says thoughtfully. He reaches the picnic table and she hops off of his back. They both sit at the table and wait, squinting against the bright sun. “I don’t know if I want to add doing a play on top of everything else my first semester, you know?” 

“I get it,” Natasha replies. “It’s easier for me. I mean, that’s my major. But think about it. There’s no one else I’d rather make out with than my favorite gay boy.”

“That makes me weep for your future,” Bucky says, deadpan. He lifts his head when Sam and Wanda approach, dropping down at the table. Sam lets his books drop down to the cement with a clatter and drapes his arm over Wanda’s shoulders. 

“Fuck math. Fuck it hard in the ass,” Sam says in lieu of a greeting, and then cuts Bucky a look. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” 

Bucky just laughs, but the smile slips from his face when he spots Steve. Jessica and Katie are flanking him as he makes his way towards the table. Maria is Sharon’s roommate, and Bucky doesn’t have a problem with her. He actually sort of likes her. She’s got a razor sharp wit and a wicked sense of humor. But Sharon still hasn’t gotten over her little crush on Steve, and while it was amusing at first it’s gotten more than a little irritating. 

“Great,” Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes. Natasha furrows her brow and sits up straighter to follow Bucky’s gaze. Once she sees Sharon, her green eyes cool considerably. Wanda turns around, lips pulling back into a grimace. 

If nothing else, Bucky’s girls are fiercely protective of their gays. 

“She’s not coming over here, is she?” Wanda asks in that eastern european accent of hers. 

“Steve’s too polite not to invite her,” Bucky sighs, and Natasha drops her head onto Bucky’s shoulder sympathetically. 

“I’m not,” Natasha grits out, and Bucky rolls his eyes. If he lets this go on any longer he’ll have to break out the hose. Besides, he can tell how uncomfortable Steve is. To anyone else he’d look perfectly relaxed, but Bucky knows him well enough to see the subtle straightness of his back, the tense set of his jaw. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky says, patting Natasha’s back a few times until she sits up. “She has to live across the hall from us. I don’t want it to get any more awkward.”

“Sorry baby,” Wanda says suddenly, leaning over to give Sam a quick kiss on the cheek before springing up from the table. Sam merely blinks as Wanda bounds over to Steve and drags him over by the arm, giving Maria and Sharon a very convincing smile over her shoulder. She seats Steve next to Bucky and sits on the end of the bench herself, leaving no extra room. 

Natasha stays in her spot and stares down Sharon with a terrifying glare. Bucky rolls his eyes and tries to hide his smile. Maria and Sharon sit down next to a very put out looking Sam. 

“Hey,” Bucky says intimately, leaning it to share a long, lingering kiss with Steve. He can feel eyes on them. “How was class?” 

“Fine,” Steve replies, slinging his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and reaching over to tug on Natasha’s hair. She grumbles and smacks his arm. 

“Any luck finding a job?” Bucky asks, leaning heavily against Steve. Yes, he may be playing it up just a little. But fuck it. Steve is his boyfriend and he can stake all the claim he damn well pleases. 

“No,” Steve scowls, tucking his arm around Bucky’s waist. “There is apparently nothing open on campus.” 

Bucky smirks. Ever since Bucky got his job Steve has been looking for one as well, joking around and saying there’s no way he can let Bucky be the man in their relationship. But Bucky sees it for what it is. They’re equals. Steve won’t let Bucky pay for dinner without getting the next one. But that’s how it’s always been. 

They all chat for a while; Bucky and Steve with their arms around each other and Sam and Wanda kicking each other playfully under the table. Natasha and Maria strike up an intense conversation, about what? Bucky doesn’t want to know. Sharon is quiet, but she mostly always is around Bucky. It makes him uncomfortable, makes him think she’s planning something.

A shadow falls over the table, and Bucky looks up just in time to see Wade climbing up onto it, flipping over to lie on his back and spread out, feet and hands dangling off of the edges. 

“Hello children,” he says with a friendly grin. Bucky rolls his eyes and Steve brings his hand down in a hard slap on the strip of skin where Wade’s shirt has ridden up. To his credit, Wade barely flinches. 

“How do you always find us?” Sam asks, eyeing Wade dubiously. Wade just grins again, wide and happy. It’s pretty much his default setting. 

“Freshmen are frightened and predictable creatures,” he says seriously, and then tips his head back to look at the dorm. “Plus you’re like fifty feet from the dorm, which is where I live, dipshit. I sort of have to walk by.” 

“Hello, ladies,” Wade adds, rolling onto his side to face Natasha and Wanda, propping his body up on his elbow. “How are the two prettiest girls on campus?” 

“Can’t complain,” Wanda replies sweetly, and Natasha flips her fiery red hair. Sam glares at the back of Wade’s head. Wade waves a hand behind him, not bothering to turn around. 

“Don’t think I forgot about you, lovelies,” Wade says, rolling up to sit cross-legged at the end of the table. “Look at you lucky, lucky boys. Surrounded by beautiful girls all the time.” 

“They are quite lucky, aren’t they?” Wanda says, and then leans over to kiss away Sam’s pout. 

“You girls are the only reason I allow myself to be seen with these losers,” Wade adds, leaning over to tuck Natasha’s hair behind her ear. 

“Wade, I’m hurt,” Bucky says, slapping his hand over his heart. “What happened to your epic crush on me?” 

“Over it, dude,” Wade says simply. “Like I could come between that unbreakable bond.” He waves a hand towards him and Steve. “Like anyone could.” 

Bucky doesn’t think he imagines the way his eyes go hard and serious, for once, and land on Sharon. He definitely doesn’t miss the way her lips curve up into a smirk, eyes flashing like she was just given a challenge. 

“But we could work something out, I think,” Wade continues, looping an arm around both Sam and Wanda’s shoulders and wiggling his eyebrows.

“You are absolutely fucking shameless,” Sam says, but he’s laughing. “Let go of my girl.” 

Wade just laughs and flops back down on the table, looking perfectly comfortable all stretched out in the middle of their group. 

“Did you want something in particular?” Bucky asks, reaching up to tangle his fingers with Steve’s after he loops an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. 

“Besides ogling your friends?” Wade asks. He then snaps his fingers and sits up, facing Steve. “Were you still looking for a job?”

“Yeah,” Steve says curiously, “but I’m not sure I want to do anything you would think is a good way to make money.” 

“While you could make a killing in that sort of profession, I’m not willing to have my balls ripped off by your jealous boyfriend,” Wade says, shooting Bucky a wink. “I know this guy, Ed. Runs a coffee shop a few blocks off campus. He owed me a favor.” 

“Seriously?” Steve asks, eyes lighting up. 

“You start Monday,” Wade replies. “You can go in there this weekend and work out your schedule with him. He’s real cool, won’t fuck you over with your classes. And while your boy is busy pouting about all the naughty boom boom time he’s missing out on, you can console him with free coffee.” 

“Free coffee?” Bucky says, perking up. “He’ll take it.”

“Shit yeah I will,” Steve replies, leaning in closer to Wade. “I could kiss you.” 

“Dude. Free coffee. We’ll both kiss him,” Bucky laughs, and they surge forward to kiss Wade on the cheek. Wade turns his head and manages to lick across both of their lips, making them splutter and laugh.

“Gaaaay,” Sam groans, and Wanda reaches over to flick his nose. 

“Oh, I’ll show you gay,” Wade threatens, lunging for Sam who lets out a sharp cry and jumps up to flee from the table. 

Bucky just chuckles and leans over to catch Steve’s lips in a soft kiss, not giving a flying fuck about anybody that may be watching them.

Hell, let them take notes.

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Ed is well, interesting, to say the least. Steve is not at all surprised that he and Wade are friends, to put it that way.

When Steve shows up on Saturday afternoon, the place is sort of packed. There are people squashed onto lumpy couches and overstuffed armchairs, all reading books or typing furiously on their laptops. Steve runs his fingers through his hair and steps up to the counter. The guy that greets him has flaming red hair that seems to stick out in every direction and his eyes are hidden behind thick black frames. He has a hoop through his bottom lip and his fingernails are painted black. 

“What can I get ya?” He asks cheerfully, and Steve clears his throat. 

“Uh, I’m Steve. Wade’s friend,” he says politely. “I’m supposed to talk to Ed?”

“Oh shit, that’s right!” The guy says, throwing a towel over his shoulder and coming around the counter. He’s wearing a kilt and combat boots. “I’m Ed.”

Somehow, Steve isn’t surprised. 

“Hey,” Steve says, shaking the guy’s hand. Ed motions behind the counter and Steve follows after a beat. He’s led into a cramped and tiny office, and Ed picks up a clipboard and tosses it to him. 

“Here’s some shit to fill out,” Ed says, turning to face him. “There’s also a schedule there. I’m pretty set on staff but I could always use the extra help, so you can work pretty much whenever. Wade said you were a freshman, and shit man, I know how rough that is. So put yourself on the schedule whenever.”

Steve just nods uncertainly. 

“So no more than like fifteen hours a week for starters, yeah? School comes first, and you definitely gotta leave time for fun,” Ed tells him, dropping into a chair and spinning around. “You got a girlfriend, Steve?” 

“Boyfriend,” Steve says absently, leaning against the wall to look over the schedule. Ed doesn’t show a hint of surprise, just keeps twirling. 

“All the same, gotta leave time for him, too.”

“Well, he’s strangely addicted to coffee so I’m sure he’ll be in here all the time,” Steve replies, and then tenses. It’s probably not the best idea to tell your new employer that your boyfriend is going to be loitering in his place of business all the time mainlining free coffee, but Ed just laughs. 

“There are worse addictions,” he says, and then jumps up when the bell above the door jingles. “Well, you fill that stuff out and then come find me. You up for learnin’ some shit?”

“Uh, sure,” Steve agrees, and drops down into the seat Ed vacated. Ed grins at him, wide and toothy, and heads towards the front. Steve stares after him for a moment, and then shakes his head and grins. 

He doesn’t spend too much time on his schedule. He just matches it to Bucky’s the best he can, scheduling himself for five three hour shifts, two of them falling on Mondays before and after his only class at 12:30. 

After filling out all his paperwork, he goes out to find Ed. He okays Steve’s schedule and tosses him an apron, smirking a little. 

“Now, pay attention. This shit’s important.”

A few very hectic and confusing hours pass, wherein Ed teaches him how to make every sort of coffee and tea related drink on the planet. He thinks it goes pretty well, aside from the unfortunate moments where he accidentally snorts some freshly ground coffee when he leans in to smell it and then dumps a shot of espresso on his favorite jeans.

“You’ll learn as you go,” are Ed’s parting words as he shoves him out the door. “See ya on Monday, kid!”

When Steve finally gets back into the room Bucky is lying on his stomach doing some homework. He perks up when Steve walks in, rolling over onto his back. 

“That took longer than expected,” Bucky says, watching as Steve kicks off his shoes and tosses his keys on the desk. 

“Wade neglected to tell me I would be trained today,” Steve replies, running sticky fingers through his hair. He walks over to give Bucky a soft kiss, leaning over and pressing their lips together. 

“You smell like coffee,” Bucky says, inhaling deeply and skimming his lips down the side of Steve’s neck. 

“I know,” Steve replies, wrinkling his nose. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“No,” Bucky says, sitting up and grabbing the hem of Steve’s shirt. “Don’t.” 

Steve crinkles his brow in confusion, eyes widening when Bucky suddenly gets up and spins them around, pushing Steve down so he’s sitting on the side of the bed. Bucky grins and drops to his knees gracefully, hands going to Steve’s fly. 

“You’re turned on because I smell like coffee,” Steve says, laughing incredulously and lifting his hips as Bucky pulls off his pants and underwear. “You’re such a freak.”

“You want your dick sucked or not?” Bucky asks, eyes flashing as he runs his pink tongue over his plump lips. “Shirt off and shut up.” 

Steve hurries to obey, pulling his shirt over his head as Bucky does the same. Steve is soon naked, strong legs pushed wide open by Bucky’s insistent hands. He rests his elbows on the bed behind him as he leans back, tipping his head forward to watch Bucky. He wasn’t even thinking about sex a few minutes ago, but all it takes is Bucky licking his lips and a few quick strokes to get him hard, cock twitching towards Bucky’s mouth. 

Bucky flicks his gaze up towards Steve, looking into his eyes as he leans in to lap at the head of his dick. Steve gasps, hips twitching. Bucky moans at the taste, curling his tongue around and flicking the tip of it back and forth across the slit. He presses the tip of his tongue insistently up underneath the base, teasing at the bundle of nerves there. 

“Fuck,” Steve pants out. Bucky gives him an obscene, shiny-lipped grin before he sucks Steve’s cock into his mouth, steel blue eyes locked on Steve. Bucky moans, low and throaty around Steve’s cock as it nudges the back of his throat. He gets a wicked glint in his eye and fucking winks before swallowing Steve down, nose brushing Steve’s pelvis. He shouts out, hips bucking up into that tight, wet heat. 

Bucky makes a tiny gagging sound but that only seems to spur him on. His eyes slide closed, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he wraps his hand around the base of Steve’s dick and starts bobbing up and down, concentrating completely on pleasuring Steve. 

One of the hottest things about Bucky is how much he genuinely loves sucking cock.

When they first got together, Bucky would blow him all the time, for what seemed like hours. He would swallow all Steve’s come and kiss him, stroke him until he got hard and Bucky could start all over. 

He gets off on it. That much is obvious by the tent in his pants. Bucky is such a slutty little bottom, getting off so hard on Steve’s cock inside of him, whether it be his mouth or his ass. Steve gets an idea, reaches down to put his hand on Bucky’s throat and push him back. Bucky actually whines, straining forward to try and get Steve’s leaking cock back in his mouth. Steve would laugh if he wasn’t so fucking turned on. 

“I’m feeling left out,” Steve says, rubbing Bucky’s slick, puffy lips with his thumb. He gestures over his shoulder and crawls back onto the bed, lying down on his back. Bucky crawls up onto the bed, kicking his pants off on the way and leaning in to kiss Steve before flipping around, placing his knees on either side of Steve’s head. 

He doesn’t even wait for Steve to begin before he sucks his cock back into his mouth, moaning as he laps up the sticky fluid that has leaked from the slit. Steve groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before he reaches up to spread Bucky’s cheeks and expose that smooth, pink hole. 

Steve licks his lips, fingers trailing over smooth, hairless skin. He reaches forward and cups Bucky’s balls in his hand, thumb dragging across the silky skin before he rolls them in his palm. 

He can’t help but remember the first time Bucky waxed and shaved, leaving himself smooth as a goddamn porn star. It was a few weeks after they’d started dating and they were making out on the couch, and Steve slid his hand into Bucky’s pants and felt nothing but silk. Bucky had been almost bashful about it, biting his bottom lip as he arched up into Steve’s hand. Steve was instantly enthralled. He’d pulled Bucky’s pants down eagerly, got his mouth and hands all over that bare skin until Bucky was shaking, covering his belly with the release of more than one orgasm. 

Bucky has kept himself hairless ever since. 

Steve rewards him now by sucking on his balls, pulling one into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. Bucky lets out a choked moan and Steve grins, spit slick skin falling from his mouth. 

Bucky’s cock is dragging across his neck, leaving slick little trails. He ignores it in favor of pulling his hips down and flattening his tongue over Bucky’s smooth hole. Bucky moans desperately, choking a little as he sucks Steve down eagerly. 

Steve focuses on rimming Bucky, trying to stave off the orgasm Bucky’s fucking incredible mouth is coaxing from him. He gets Bucky nice and slick and then pushes two fingers into him. He’s still a little loose from this morning, and he moves them in and out easily. Bucky makes encouraging little noises, slurping messily at Steve’s cock. 

Steve shoves another digit in as soon as he can, fingering Bucky hard and fast as he thrusts his hips up into his mouth. Bucky’s thighs are trembling uncontrollably, shaking with the effort of holding himself up. But he does it, because he loves getting fucked like this. 

Steve leans in to lick around his fingers and lower, sucking Bucky’s balls into his mouth one by one. They’re drawn up nice and tight, so Steve knows he’s close. Steve is moments away from his orgasm, toes clenching as he tries to hold off. 

“Want my come, baby?” Steve asks, and Bucky lets out a deep whine, nodding without letting Steve’s cock slip from his mouth. He pushes back against Steve’s fingers and Steve presses them hard against his prostate at the same moment he comes, flooding Bucky’s mouth with it. 

Bucky sucks eagerly at the head of his dick as he rides out his orgasm, the sensation almost painful. He rubs his fingers insistently against Bucky’s prostate the whole time, unrelenting pressure. Bucky lets out a loud shout, Steve’s dick slipping from his mouth as he tenses and shoots all over Steve’s chest. 

Steve slips his fingers out of Bucky’s ass and wipes them surreptitiously on the sheets. Bucky collapses and nearly slips off the narrow bed, and Steve has to grab his hips to keep him from falling. He laughs as Bucky tries to turn around, lax and boneless. 

He finally manages, kissing Steve hard and letting him taste himself on Bucky’s tongue. Bucky pulls away and lies on top of Steve, head tucked under his chin. 

“So coffee, huh?” Steve grins, and Bucky gives his neck a warning nip. 

“Shut up,” Bucky says, reaching down to grab Steve’s sensitive dick. Steve hisses and lets out a low chuckle. 

“Pretty weird kink, dude,” he grits out, cock already hardening again. Bucky reaches up to gather some of his come from Steve’s chest and then takes Steve’s cock again, slicking it with his own release. Steve’s eyes widen as Bucky moves to straddle his hips. 

“I said, shut up,” he repeats, sinking down onto Steve’s rapidly filling cock. He bites his lip and closes his eyes, hips rolling in little circles as he settles fully on Steve’s lap.

And then Steve absolutely does shut up, not mentioning coffee even once as Bucky rides him to a second orgasm.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Time passes quickly, days turning into weeks. October hits them before they know it. Steve is settled at work, and he enjoys it, as eccentric as his new boss may be. Sex has never been better, since apparently Bucky gets off on his boyfriend smelling like ground coffee all the time. Hey, you can’t fault a guy for his quirks.

But still, juggling everything can be stressful and Bucky has this annoying habit of getting all his homework done insanely fast. It seriously bugs the shit out of Steve, especially at moments like now when he is trying to finish up his latest assignment and Bucky is sitting cross-legged on his bed, happy as a clam as he watches a re-run of Man vs. Wild on the Discovery Channel. 

“Fuckin’ gross,” Bucky mumbles as Bear eats something disgusting on the television. Steve sighs and drops his pencil as he glances over at the clock. It’s after midnight and he has class in eight hours and work after that. Bucky is free until noon, the asshole.

Fifteen minutes later he deems his work good enough (read: he gives up) and spins around in his chair. Bucky is slumped against the wall in only a wifebeater and boxer briefs, pushed up high on his pale thighs. The hem of his shirt rides up a little, revealing a hint of smooth belly and a glimpse of his tattoo. 

The bone deep exhaustion he felt only moments before suddenly dissipates and he watches, fascinated, as Bucky stretches. Lean muscles play under milky skin and Steve is instantly wide-awake. He gets up and stalks over to the bed, eyes darkening with lust. Bucky is oblivious, chewing on a fingernail as he looks up at Steve.

“Finished?” Bucky asks, and Steve smirks as he gets onto the bed and straddles Bucky’s hips. He pins his shoulders to the wall, nails digging into tan, freckled flesh. 

“Just getting started,” Steve replies as he leans in to kiss Bucky’s neck. 

“Cheese,” Bucky snorts, but tilts his head to the side regardless, biting his lip as Steve sucks and nips at his neck. Steve chuckles softly and pulls Bucky’s earlobe into his mouth. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Steve growls, sliding his hands up under Bucky’s shirt. His skin is soft, sleepy warm under his palms. “Always wanna be touching you.”

Bucky just hums softly in response, hips tilting up when Steve grips them, thumbs sliding under the waistband of his underwear. Their eyes lock then, hot and heated, and Steve surges forward. Their mouths clash, teeth clacking as they kiss. It’s hot and intense, Steve’s hand sliding down the back of Bucky’s underwear to cup his ass. 

Steve reaches up to grip the back of Bucky’s neck, falling back to lie on the bed. Bucky comes willingly, thighs bracketing Steve’s hips. Steve thrusts his hips up, tongue darting into Bucky’s mouth. He’s aching for it, desperate to have more contact. Without thinking he rolls them over, wanting to be on top of Bucky, to grind down against him. 

Steve remembers, a moment too late, that they aren’t at home anymore, that their beds are no longer wide and comfortable. Bucky lets out a squeak as they slip off of the bed and Steve quickly rolls to the side to avoid landing on him. 

Steve hits the floor, face connecting with the hardwood painfully. Bucky groans and gasps, the fall knocking the wind out of him. Bucky laughs then, pulling himself back onto the bed as Steve cups his nose, eyes watering. He sits up, and when he pulls his hands away he is shocked to find them bloody. Bucky’s laughter dies immediately. 

“Shit! Are you okay?” Bucky asks worriedly. Steve shakes his head a little and reaches out to pull himself up with the bed. Bucky grabs his wrist, pushing it up into the air and making Steve slip onto his ass again.

“What the hell?” Steve demands, wincing when he tastes blood on his lips. It’s gushing from his nose, which hurts more than he would care to admit. 

“You’ve got blood on your hands!” Bucky shrieks. “No way are you touching these sheets.” 

“I’m fucking hurt, you dick!” Steve yells, wrist twisting out of Bucky’s grasp. Bucky crawls off of the bed then, getting up on his knees in front of Steve. 

“I know,” Bucky replies, grabbing the wipes they keep in the nightstand and pulling some free. “And I’ll be a lot more sympathetic if you don’t ruin my sheets.”

Steve glares, eyes wet and nose red and splotchy. Bucky takes his hands and cleans the blood from them before taking a new wipe and cupping Steve’s cheek. He tilts Steve’s head up and gently wipes away all the blood from his face, leaning in to kiss softy between Steve’s eyes when he’s done. 

“It won’t stop!” Steve cries when it’s apparent his nose isn’t quite done bleeding yet. Bucky grabs his hands before he can wipe at it and hands him a tissue instead. Steve sniffs sadly and tears it in half, rolling up each piece and shoving them up his nostrils. Bucky’s eyes are crinkling at the edges and he’s biting down on his lip. “Don’t laugh, asshole.”

His voice sounds ridiculous, and he narrows his eyes when Bucky lets out a soft chuckle. 

“Poor baby,” Bucky coos, leaning in to plant a kiss on Steve’s forehead. Steve pushes him backwards, not done pouting yet. Bucky sprawls backwards, head tipped back as he laughs. His shirt is still rucked up, underwear pulled down low on his hips, and his long legs are splayed out wide in front of him. Steve huffs out a sigh. 

“Fuck this,” he says, voice muffled. He gets up off the floor and grabs his discarded jeans, stepping into them and pulling them up over his boxers. “Get dressed.” 

“What? Why?” Bucky asks, looking up at him curiously. Steve grabs the clothes Bucky had on earlier and tosses them at him. “Where are we going?”

“Wal-Mart,” Steve says decisively, grabbing his wallet and sliding it into his back pocket. He goes to the mirror and pulls out the wads of tissue, tossing them into the trash. The bleeding seems to have stopped, but his nose looks a little red and swollen. He scowls. 

“Wal-Mart?” Bucky asks, standing up. “It’s fuckin’ one in the morning and you have class. Why do we have to go right this moment?” 

“Fuck that tiny fucking bed, okay?” Steve says, flailing his thick arms. “I want to have a shit ton of nasty, filthy, disgusting, borderline illegalsex with you and I can’t do it on that stupid fucking thing. I was not meant for tiny beds, Bucky. I was meant to sprawl.”

“I seem to recall us having some pretty amazing sex on these beds,” Bucky points out, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes, but think of how much more awesome it could be,” Steve responds, waving his hands in the air. “I can concentrate on fucking you much better if I’m not worried about rolling off of the fucking edge. Again.”

“And Wal-Mart is going to somehow fix all our problems?” Bucky asks, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh.

“It will if you get off your ass and come with me,” Steve replies, sitting on the other bed to pull on his shoes. Bucky lets out a sigh and gets dressed, pulling on jeans and a hoodie. “Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” Bucky says, and then they head out.

Bucky still isn’t sure what they’re doing at Wal-Mart in the middle of the night, but Steve seems to have a mission in mind when he grabs a cart and leads them into the brightly lit, twenty-four hour superstore.

Bucky yawns as he trails behind Steve, shoes slapping against the floor. 

“What are we doing?” Bucky asks, snagging a box of cookies from a display. He tosses them in the cart as Steve veers suddenly into Housewares. 

“This!” Steve shouts from the next aisle, and Bucky rounds a corner to see him standing in front of a display of inflatable air mattresses.

“This is your grand solution?” Bucky asks. “An air bed?” 

“Yes,” Steve says fervently, snagging a queen sized one off of the shelf and tossing it into the cart. Bucky raises an eyebrow and stifles a laugh. Steve looks so determined, so adorable. His already a bit crooked nose is a bit swollen, all red and puffy. 

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” Bucky says, “but we’re not exactly living in a sprawling estate. It’s a fucking dorm room. I don’t even think this will fit.”

“Oh, I’ll make it fucking fit,” Steve says, swinging the cart around to face the front of the store. He reaches up to cup the back of Bucky’s head, eyes earnest and soft. “I wanna sleep with you.” 

“I know,” Bucky smirks. “Dirty, semi-illegal sex.” 

“No,” Steve replies, smiling softly. “I want to sleep with you. Without risking injury.”

“You cuddly bastard,” Bucky says, but he can’t hide his grin. Steve leans in and nips playfully at the tip of Bucky’s nose. 

“Now, let’s get some lube before we go. Because as much as I love playing snuggle bugs, I do need the raunchy sex.”

“My ass is well aware,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. But he leans in to snag a quick kiss all the same.

It's half past two by the time they stumble back into the dorm, bleary eyed and yawning. Steve drops the box containing the bed on the floor. He starts kicking clothes and books to the side, clearing the miniscule space between the beds.

“Seriously, now?” Bucky asks, exasperated. He drops the shopping bags in the corner. “It’s late, Stevie. Let’s just sleep. Your alarm is going off in like four hours.” 

“I’m committed to this,” Steve replies sleepily, ripping open the box and dumping the contents onto the floor. He spreads out the bed and plugs in the pump. It’s insanely loud when he turns it on, the noise reverberating through the room. 

“You’re gonna wake up everyone on the damn floor!” Bucky shouts over the pump, and sure enough, banging starts on the wall about thirty seconds later. Steve just laughs, getting up on one of the beds as the inflatable mattress fills. It pushes Bucky back against the door, and his eyes widen as he looks over at Steve. Once the bed is finally done Steve turns off the pump, much to the relief of the entire dorm, Bucky is sure. He caps the air valve and climbs over it to where Bucky stands with the bags. 

“It’s – uh, okay. It’s sort of big,” Steve says, scratching his head. Bucky slowly turns his head, staring at him incredulously. 

“Steve, it takes up the entire fucking room!” Bucky says, and he’s not even exaggerating. The air mattress pushes up against both beds and the desk between them, leaving only a few feet between the bed and the door. “Gangbuster idea, dude.”

“Whatever,” Steve yawns. “We’ll prop it up against the wall when we’re not using it.” Bucky just sighs, conceding to the idea as he helps Steve with the new queen-sized bed set they bought. 

By the time they finally disrobe and crawl into it, it’s after three. Steve lies on his back and Bucky molds himself against him, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. 

“I really wanted to have that nasty sex,” Steve mumbles, eyelids drooping. Bucky lets out a soft chuckle against his skin, tracing indistinguishable patterns on his bare stomach. 

“Tomorrow,” Bucky breathes, pressing a lazy kiss to his shoulder. “After class.”

Steve doesn’t reply. He just sprawls out happily, legs splayed and one arm wrapped loosely around Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky spreads out a little too, and yeah, he has to admit that it feels nice. It may not have been the most well executed idea, but it works. 

They make it work.

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Bucky’s eyes slide open the next morning, evil sunlight flooding the room. That’s one thing they forgot at Wal-Mart. Fucking blackout curtains. He’s completely unaware of what woke him until he hears a curse and something hard and solid lands on the airbed between him and Steve. Bucky lets out a squeak that he will deny until his dying day.

It’s Wade, looking completely surprised. Steve wakes up then, lifting his head and scowling. Bucky just blinks, glad that he and Steve are both under the blankets. 

“Am I dreaming?” Wade asks, blinking and looking back and forth between them. “Because this feels like something I would dream about.”

“What do you want?” Bucky asks sleepily as Wade makes himself comfortable on the bed.

“Well, I know Steve has class in the Morris building at eight, and so do I. I was going to see if he wanted to hoof it over there together,” Wade says, reaching up to place his hands behind his head. “Then I tripped over this nice little addition to your room and landed in the middle of my wildest fantasy. Now I’m quite comfortable.”

“Time’s it?” Steve asks sleepily, rubbing his face. Bucky just flops back onto the bed. He’s rapidly becoming used to Wade’s antics. And now he knows to always double check the fucking lock on the door. 

“Quarter ‘til, dude,” Wade replies lazily. Steve’s eyes snap open and he goes to roll off of the mattress and instead rolls straight into the side of the abandoned bed, knocking his face into the wood frame. 

“Fuck!” Steve exclaims, grappling with the covers as he gets up. Bucky slaps his hand over Wade’s eyes as the covers drop.

“Watch your nose,” Bucky warns, grumbling tiredly. “And bring coffee when you come back.” 

“Let me know when you’re decent,” Wade says, his eyelashes fluttering against Bucky’s palm. “I don’t want Bucky to kick my ass.”

“I hate you,” Bucky mumbles, already half asleep. Wade snorts. 

“Let’s go!” Steve shouts, somehow already dressed and running a brush through his unruly hair. Wade shakes Bucky’s hand off of his face and gets up, stumbling a little as he tries to get off of the bed. 

“Lots of coffee!” Bucky shouts, burying himself under the blankets. 

The only response he gets is the door slamming. He smiles and falls back to sleep.

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

Bucky is in sort of a pissy mood. Taking into consideration the fact that the sun doesn’t exactly shine out of his ass even on a good day, it would probably be wise to steer clear of him.

He trudges down the hall of the dorm, pausing in his step and doing a double take when he spots Peter doing yoga in his room with the door wide open. He’s just coming from class and Steve should be just going, and he’s really hoping he catches him before he leaves. He wouldn’t exactly be adverse to a hug right now. Not that he would admit it.

When he rounds the corner, his mood goes from sort of crappy to downright horrible. Steve is in the hall talking with Sharon. He’s slumped casually against the wall, nodding at something she’s saying. 

Sharon giggles, flips her hair over her shoulder, and reaches out to stroke Steve’s arm. It’s the flirting trifecta, and that coupled with the dangerously low cut shirt she’s wearing is enough to make Bucky see red. 

He walks up next to Steve, stomping loudly to make his presence known. “Hey,” he says, and Steve gives him a wide smile. “Don’t you have class?”

“Was just going, actually,” Steve replies, shooting Bucky a grateful little look. “See ya, Sharon.” 

“Bye Steve,” she replies, batting her eyelashes at him. “If you have any more trouble with that history paper, let me know. I’m sure you and I could bang something out.”

“Uh, right,” Steve says awkwardly, and Bucky almost bites through his bottom lip. He turns to Bucky, voice going low and intimate. “See you in a couple hours.” 

He gives Bucky a long, soft kiss. He barely resists the urge to stick his tongue out at Sharon when Steve pulls away. He watches Steve head down the hallway, and when he turns back he realizes he’s not the only one. Sharon has her head cocked to the side, eyes appraising. She gives Bucky a cocky little smirk, eyebrows flicking upwards before she turns away. 

Bucky closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He turns for the door and thinks better of it, catching up to her in a few quick strides. 

“A word?” Bucky grits out. Sharon turns around and gives him a sweet little smile. “Look, it’s been cute. But don’t you think it’s time you moved on? There must be more interesting ways for you to spend your time than hitting on my boyfriend. He’s gay. Let it go.”

“He may be your boyfriend,” Sharon replies, smirking. “But the way he was staring at my tits tells me he ain’t all gay.”

Bucky knows Steve is still physically attracted to girls. He knows a nice pair of tits will catch his eye and he’ll still watch lesbian porn when the mood strikes. That doesn’t bother Bucky, because in the end he knows Steve’s dick isn’t going anywhere but in him. But this girl pisses him the fuck off, acting all cocky like she thinks she could get Steve to come with just a crook of her bony finger. 

“I don’t want to start shit with you, alright?” Bucky says, practically shaking with anger. He would like nothing more than to throttle this girl. “But you need to fucking back off.”

“There’s something you should know about me, Bucky,” she says quietly, leaning in and cupping her hand around her mouth like she’s telling him a secret. “I always get what I want.”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky replies, hands curling into fists at his sides. Anger claws at his belly and he wants to fucking scream. Instead he keeps his voice low and steady, letting his tone convey everything he’s feeling. “You’re not getting him.”

Sharon just smirks, raising her eyebrows as if saying we’ll see before spinning on her heels and disappearing into her room. Bucky takes another deep breath, fumbling with trembling hands to get his keys out of his pocket. 

He stares at the whiteboard on the door, the cliché college messaging system, and wonders why they even have it. Bucky & Steve is written at the top in Bucky’s neat print. Underneath that is _ have the buttsex!! (ps. call ben) _ in Ben’s messy scrawl. There is an arrow leading from that to C _ an I watch? ♥ _ in Natasha’s loopy cursive, with another arrow leading to  _ Ditto. Will bring popcorn & video camera. _ in Wade’s handwriting. 

He stares at the messages from their friends, fingertips digging painfully into the doorjamb. Everyone has always rooted for them, ever since the beginning. Knowing that someone out there, even someone as insignificant as Sharon, is hoping that they’ll fail bothers him more than he would like to admit. 

He brings up his hand and erases everything but their names, swiping his palm angrily across the whiteboard. He grabs the marker and pulls off the cap with his teeth, writing  _ ARE IN LOVE!  _ in letters so big it nearly takes up the rest of the board. It’s comforting how much the words ring true, even in angry, spiky font. 

His sour mood stays with him until Steve comes back and brings with him a latte and chocolate chip muffin from Ed’s, even though he didn’t work today. Bucky thanks him and gives him a kiss to show his gratitude.

But it’s not until he leaves to go to the bathroom and notices Steve had taken the marker and written  _ forever! :D _ under Bucky’s words that he actually smiles.

Bucky decides not to tell Steve about his little confrontation with Sharon. Not because he thinks Steve will be mad or anything, but because in the long run it just doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to act like the jealous girlfriend and cause another fight with Steve over a girl that doesn’t mean anything.

She’s just an annoying little speck marring Bucky’s otherwise awesome life, and it would be best just to ignore her. 

Which is why when Steve suggests going home for the weekend to catch up with family, Bucky sighs in relief and heartily agrees. 

His house is warm and comforting when Steve drops him off. It seems so wide and open after being cooped up in such a tiny dorm room. 

He’s barely set down his bag before a little brunette blur tackles him. He slips and barely catches himself on the wall, wrapping his arms tight around his little sister. It feels like it’s been years since he’s seen her rather than weeks. It’s probably crazy, but he swears she’s grown a little.

He buries his face in her hair and lifts her a few inches off of the floor just to hear her giggle. It isn’t until he hears it that he realizes just how much he’d missed it. 

“Hey kid,” he says as he sets her down. “Missed me, I take it?” 

“Not even,” she replies, but she squeezes him just a little tighter before letting go. “Mom! Dad! Buck’s home!”

He’s soon enveloped in hugs and bombarded with questions. He laughs as he answers them all, tells them about his classes and his job. He assures his mom that he already checked to make sure he will get Thanksgiving break off, and yes, Steve will too. 

They take him out for dinner, ice cream, and a movie and by the time he crawls into his own bed that night he’s exhausted. He’s so tired that he feels like he should be asleep by the time his head hits the pillow, but instead he lies there wide-awake, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.

It hits him about five minutes later. This is the first time in almost two months he has tried to sleep without Steve beside him, without so much as a goodnight kiss. He punches the pillow and flops onto his back, eyes lingering on his cell phone on the nightstand. 

There’s a fifty-fifty chance Steve will make fun of him and call him a girl, but Bucky doesn’t care. He grabs the phone and hits speed dial number two, gnawing on his bottom lip as he listens to it ring.

“Hey Buck.” Steve answers, voice pitched low and intimate. Bucky immediately feels more relaxed and he sinks deeper into the bed, eyes fluttering closed. His hand drifts to his hip, fingertips trailing across his tattoo. It’s amazing how much he loves it now. 

“Hi,” he breathes softly, even sleepier now that he has Steve’s loving voice in his ear. “Did I wake you up?” 

“Uh, no,” Steve replies easily. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Bucky says, burrowing deeper under the blankets. He turns onto his side, staring into his dark room. “Would you call me totally gay if I said I couldn’t sleep without you?” 

“Oh, thank god,” Steve laughs, and Bucky can’t help but smile at the sound, even if he is confused. 

“What?”

“Well, okay,” Steve replies, warm chuckle in his tone. “I might be like, on my way to your house right now, actually. Because I want to kiss you goodnight. So, no. I won’t call you super gay because I’m the one that’s walking to your house to crawl through your window.”

“Really?” Bucky asks, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “You have a key, you know.” 

“I know. But I figured if I was going to sneak into your house just to kiss you I might as well take it all the way, you know? Climbing through the window is totally more romantic.”

“Until you fall and bust your ass,” Bucky laughs. He gets an idea and sits up, rolling off of his bed to stand. “Where are you? Close?” 

“I was just leaving my house when you called, actually. Should be there in a bit.”

“I’ll see you in a few, then,” Bucky says. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Steve replies happily. “Homos forever!” Bucky rolls his eyes and hangs up. He throws a hoodie on over his tee shirt and flannel pants and steps into his flip-flops on his way out the door. 

He’s quiet as he sneaks down the stairs, shutting the front door carefully. There is a slight chill in the air, but it’s nice. Bucky grins as he walks up the street.

There are moments when he can’t quite believe just how fucking in love he is, how much more in love he falls every single day. It’s sort of incredible, when he stops to think about it.

There is a park Steve always cuts through to walk to Bucky’s house and Bucky stops when he gets there. He climbs up onto the bright orange slide he and Steve played on when they were kids, and he waits.

It’s only about two minutes later when Steve turns into the park, walking at a brisk pace with a smile on his face. Bucky grins and hops off of the slide, walking over to him. Steve laughs gleefully when he spots Bucky. They both pick up the pace a little, not stopping until they’re wrapped in each other’s arms. Bucky presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips and pulls away to bury his face in Steve’s neck and laugh, fingers gripping the hood of Steve’s sweatshirt. 

“We are so fucking lame,” Bucky laughs, inhaling the sweet, familiar scent of Steve. 

“I know,” Steve replies, kissing Bucky’s temple and chuckling. “We saw each other like, six freaking hours ago.”

“We’re codependent and pathetic,” Bucky says, and Steve cracks up. 

“We’re adorable,” he relents, and Bucky pulls back to look him in the eye, hands slipping down to the small of his back. 

“I guess that’s true.” Bucky grins and kisses him again. It’s soft and sweet, tongues meeting briefly before they pull away. “So what, we just say goodnight and leave?” 

“I am sort of like, amazingly tired,” Steve replies, yawning as if proving a point. Bucky laughs against his cheek. 

“Okay, well. Goodnight, Stevie,” Bucky says, leaning to mumble against his lips before kissing him again. “I’m glad you’re as lame as I am.” 

“Homos forever,” Steve repeats, kissing him softly. “Night, Buck.” 

They kiss for a little bit longer, fingers interlocking. They pull away, walking backwards until their hands fall apart and they smile at each other before turning around.

Bucky peeks over his shoulder before he exits the park, laughing when he sees Steve doing the same. So fucking lame. 

But, it works. When he crawls back into bed, he’s asleep within minutes.

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

So, they knew about midterms, in theory. Actually  having midterms is a completely different story.

The week goes by in a caffeinated blur, both boys keeping their noses buried in their respective books. Ben and Garrett take them out to celebrate at the end of their exams on Saturday night and they crash in a naked, drunken heap on the air mattress around four in the morning. All in all, it’s a pretty fantastic night.

There’s a soft knock on the door what feels like minutes later, and Steve’s eyes flutter open. A soft groan escapes his lips, one hand immediately going to his forehead as he feels around for his phone with the other. It’s nine in the morning. The person on the other side of the door is flirting with death. 

Steve rolls off of the bed and pulls on a pair of clingy black sweats, scratching at his belly and draping a sheet over Bucky’s naked hips as his boyfriend sleeps on, dead to the world. 

Steve answers the door tiredly, scratching at the stubble coating his jaw. He leans heavily against the frame and stretches, inadvertently showing off the subtle pull of muscles under taut skin. Sharon is at the door, clad only in tiny shorts and a sports bra, blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says brightly, sounding chipper and so very awake. “Did I wake you?”

Steve just yawns and stares at her blankly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“It’s cool,” he tells her even though it really isn’t, waving a hand. “What’s up?”

“I was gonna ask if I could borrow some laundry soap,” she says. “I’m all out and I obviously need some clean clothes,” she giggles, gesturing expansively at her miniscule outfit. Steve doesn’t even glance away from her face, just yawns again and opens the door wider.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, turning away from the door. “Just be quiet. Buck is still sleeping.” 

Sharon follows him into the room to see Bucky asleep on the air mattress, his back to them. Steve reaches up to grab their soap off of the top shelf in the closet, causing his pants to slip down a little. When he turns back around Sharon’s eyes are south of his belly button.

“That’s, um, a really nice tattoo,” she says, biting her bottom lip. Steve looks down at his hip and smiles before handing over the soap.

“I like it,” he says. Bucky sighs in his sleep, snuffling and rolling onto his back. The sheet is slung low on his torso, and her eyes flick from his hips back to Steve’s, shoulders slumping a little. 

“Bucky has one too?” She asks unnecessarily, and Steve looks over at his boyfriend, at the inked design on the thin skin of his hip and the hickey right next to it. 

“Yeah,” Steve replies, voice pitched low and fond as he slides his fingers through his hair. “We got them together up in Santa Cruz over the summer.”

“Oh. That’s cute,” she says uncertainly, fingers playing with the end of her ponytail. “So you guys are like, really, really serious, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Steve says, furrowing his brow and fighting the urge to tell her off. She doesn’t seem to get that he won’t ever want her. “He’s pretty much my entire world.”

“Well, thanks for the soap,” she says quickly, and his eyes widen when she hugs him, pressing her chest unnecessarily close to his. He pats her back awkwardly and stares up at the ceiling.

“No problem,” he replies as she pulls away. “Can you do me a favor and just like, leave it by our door or something when you’re done? We were up super late.” Her brow furrows for a moment before she finally nods. 

“Well, thanks again. Sorry for waking you,” she says, shooting one last look at Bucky before turning to leave. Steve raises his eyebrow before he finally shrugs and crawls back into bed. Bucky makes a soft little noise in his sleep, instinctively rolling to bury his face in Steve’s neck. Steve inhales the sweet scent of Bucky’s shampoo and drops back off to sleep within minutes. 

Here, right here, is where he belongs.

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

Having such a large group of close friends is a good thing, mostly. The downside is that there is always someone ready, willing, and able to cause an interruption. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing. They will find a way to ruin it. That’s just what friends do.

In the middle of a lazy Sunday afternoon, there’s an obnoxious pounding on the door to Steve and Bucky’s dorm room, followed by an even more obnoxious voice. 

Case in point, Wade.

“Pull your dicks out of each other’s mouths and get the fuck out here and have lunch with me!” Wade shouts, beating his fists on the door. Bucky groans and pulls away, pressing his forehead against Steve’s sweaty hip.

“How does he always fucking know?” Bucky pants and Steve grunts, hips thrusting reflexively towards Bucky again. He licks at the tip of his cock and Wade just keeps pounding. 

“Sex later!” He shouts. “Lunch now!” 

“Two minutes!” Bucky barks, and sucks Steve back down. He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and down as he sucks hard and wet on the head. Steve comes with a stifled shout, fingers buried in Bucky’s hair. He lets out a soft little hum as he swallows and gets up, leaving Steve to clean himself up as he heads for the door. He pulls it open a crack, glaring at Wade as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Such a giver,” Wade smirks, and Bucky spots Sharon walking towards them, obviously eavesdropping. Bucky licks his lips and lets out an exaggerated hum of contentment, giving her a nod and not even trying to keep the smug grin off of his face. Steve throws the door open wider and loops an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, turning his head to give him a filthy kiss, tongues tangling between their parted lips. 

“Keep doing that and I’ll buy you lunch. No, strike that. I will buy you the fucking moon if you let me watch,” Wade vows, and Bucky throws a sarcastic wink at Jessica. She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she ducks into her room. 

“Wade, could you possibly have a little decorum?” Peter asks as he rounds a corner, slinging his messenger bag up higher on his shoulder. “I could hear your screaming from down the hall.” 

“There’s no fun in decorum,” Wade says, catching Peter around the waist and twirling him around in a circle. Peter laughs a little and pulls away, rolling his eyes fondly when Wade just chuckles. “The children are done with their sexytimes, and we were just about to go get lunch. Care to join us?”

“I have class,” Peter responds, nodding at Steve and Bucky before turning back down the hall. “Be good.” 

“As always!” Wade calls out, and then loops his arms around Steve and Bucky’s shoulders. “Come, little ones. Or come again, in Steve’s case. It’s mini corndog day!”

They follow Wade to the student union, and Steve gives Bucky a piece of gum and kisses the tip of his nose as he chews it. The taste of come is fine and dandy in the heat of the moment, but later? Not so much. 

“So,” Wade says with a flourish as they enter the bustling dining hall. “Ben and Garrett are throwing the Halloween bash this year?” 

“I guess,” Bucky replies, snapping his gum as he hands out trays. Wade takes his and disappears into the throng of people, leaving Bucky blinking and wondering if that was the end of their conversation. Wade does that a lot. 

They watch as Wade greets people, laughing and talking and taking things off of their trays to put on his own. Steve and Bucky just get in line and by the time Wade joins them his tray is nearly full with scavenged food. 

“You seriously do know everyone, don’t you?” Bucky asks, and Wade grins at him. 

“Pretty much,” Wade replies, and then reaches out to poke their noses as he bats his eyelashes. “But if it makes you feel any better, you two are my favorites.” 

“Why’s that?” Steve asks, making a happy little noise and bouncing on the balls of his feet when they reach the food. Bucky smiles fondly at him and Wade smirks. 

“Because of that. You’re all so cute and in love. It makes me happy and I want you to stick around,” Wade tells them bluntly, and Bucky raises an eyebrow. 

“Wow,” Bucky says, grinning and patting Wade on the back. “That was sort of awkwardly sweet.” 

Steve snorts as he puts a can of pineapple juice on Bucky’s tray and then takes one for himself. Bucky nods in thanks and looks back at Wade. 

“So what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Wade asks, and Bucky just shrugs. Steve turns to look at them, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Bucky could go as a pretty little girl – oh wait.” Steve chuckles and Bucky kicks him in the shin. “Ow fucker!”

“Steve could go as a douchebag asshole. Oh wait,” he retorts, and Steve sticks his tongue out at him.

“See? Adorable,” Wade chuckles, and then sticks his tray out when they reach the lunch lady. “Don’t be stingy with the mini corndogs, Rhonda. You know how much I love them.”

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

Bucky comes into the room with a can of soda, popping the top as he walks over to the bed that Steve is sitting on, back propped up against the wall.

Bucky climbs into Steve’s lap, knees pressed into the bed on either side of Steve’s hips as he rests his ass on Steve’s thighs. Steve’s arms wrap loosely around Bucky’s waist as he watches television, thumb skirting across the soft skin at the top of Bucky’s pants as he gulps down his soda. 

There’s nothing sexual about it, not right at this moment anyway. Bucky just loves being in Steve’s lap and Steve loves having Bucky sitting on him, so it works. Bucky hands the can over, resettling himself as Steve takes a drink and reaches over to set it on the desk. 

“What do you want to do today?” Steve asks, tipping his head back against the wall and looking up at Bucky’s face. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose and Steve reaches up to push them back into place. Bucky presses his palms to the wall on either side of Steve’s head as he tilts his head to the side. 

It’s Saturday and both of them have the day off. There’s laundry to be done, errands that need to be run, and there’s Ben and Garrett’s party next weekend to think about. He’s feeling selfish today. He wants Steve all to himself, doesn’t want to share him with any of their friends. 

“I was thinking of maybe going to the mall,” Bucky says coyly, resting his elbows on Steve’s shoulders and tangling his fingers in his hair. Steve wrinkles his nose, hands coming up to curl around Bucky’s biceps as his eyes stay locked on the television.

“The mall?” Steve repeats, and Bucky just nods. “Why?”

“Do I need a reason?” Bucky asks him, and Steve rolls his eyes with realization, lips quirking up into a smirk as he slips his thumbs under the sleeves of Bucky’s thin gray tee shirt, pushing up until he can grab the edge of his black jean jacket. 

“Oh, so you need more fancy clothes now that Natasha’s got you all into fashion,” Steve replies, and Bucky flicks his ear. Steve grins, big hands settling on Bucky’s hips. “There’s a sale at H&M, isn’t there?” 

“There could be many sales,” Bucky says with a shrug, like he doesn’t get their newsletter. “And if there were I possibly wouldn’t be averse to going.” 

“I’m sure,” Steve responds, grinning toothily. “My baby just wants to go shopping.” 

“That he does,” Bucky responds, ignoring Steve’s taunt and tugging at his hair. “And while we’re at it, we can go to Abercrombie & Lame and get you some more of your generic tee shirt, khaki, and sneaker combinations.”

“I’m sorry I’m not as imaginative with my clothing choices, little miss fashionista,” Steve responds, and Bucky lets out a little growl. 

“One more girl joke, Steve,” he warns, gathering Steve’s hair in his hand and pulling hard enough to make Steve hiss. “I dare you.” 

“It sounds like the punishment would be sex of some sort,” Steve replies easily, fingernails digging into soft flesh. “You should probably work on this making threats thing if stuffing me full of cock is the best you can come up with.” 

Bucky just sighs, letting his head fall forward to rest on Steve’s shoulder. Steve chuckles, hands skimming up Bucky’s back as he kisses the tip of his ear. 

“Alright,” Steve says, pushing at Bucky’s hips. “Get off of me and we’ll go shopping.” 

“Really?” Bucky replies, head popping up to grin at his boyfriend. “You’ll endure the mall with me?” 

“You’re the one that hates everyone,” Steve tells him. “If you want to go bad enough that you’re willing to endure throngs of annoying kids and soccer moms just to get some foofy homo clothes, then I’ll go. But if you try to drag me into Hot Topic I will break up with you, I swear to god.” 

“I’d break up with myself,” Bucky responds, sliding off of Steve’s lap and gathering his cell phone, wallet, and keys off of the desk. Steve follows him, stepping into a pair of Abercrombie flip flops. 

“Just so we’re clear,” Steve says, sliding his sunglasses on top of his head, “I will also require a Cinnabon. And a blowjob. Not necessarily at the same time, although that would be awesome.” 

“Oh, so you can get multiple sticky white fluids all over my face?” Bucky responds, and Steve grins at him. “Let’s go.” 

“Oh man, could you imagine?” Steve says excitedly, pulling open the door and stepping out into the hall. “Come and frosting?” 

“Things Steve loves having in his mouth for two hundred, Alex,” Wade says, not even bothering to pause in his stride or look up from his phone as he passes them in the hall. 

“Damn,” Bucky says. “Drive by burn.” 

“Yeah, and I can’t even call him out on it,” Steve replies, locking their door. “Because it’s not like he’s wrong or anything.” 

“Have I ever told you how much I love that you swallow?” Bucky asks curiously, and Steve grins proudly. “Way to take it like a boy that wasn’t straight just a few short months ago. I’ve done a good job with converting you to the cock.”

“Dude,” Maria says, exiting her room with a laundry basket. “I don’t know if you two were aware, but you don’t actually live in your own little world. When you say shit like that other people can hear you.” 

“Oh, we know,” Steve tells her, slinging his arm over Bucky’s shoulders and smiling when Bucky’s goes around his waist. 

“We just don’t care,” Bucky finishes, and they both grin at her. Katie rolls her eyes and smirks, resting her basket on her hip. 

“Shameless,” she tells them, and Steve and Bucky grin toothily at her. “Now please, go be sickening and adorable somewhere else? Us single people have shit to do.” 

Steve and Bucky laugh lowly and turn, sliding apart but tangling their fingers together as they make their way outside.

The mall is pretty much everything Steve expected it to be on a Saturday afternoon – stuffy, crowded, and nearly unbearable.

Bucky doesn’t even let him get his Cinnabon first, because he thinks Steve will bail and take his yummy treat outside while he shops. 

Bucky knows him insanely well.

He does manage to swing by Jamba Juice on the way to H&M, so that’s something. He nurses the straw of his smoothie as he sits on the floor outside the dressing rooms, waiting as Bucky tries on clothes. He comes out and models a bit, but mostly he knows Steve fails at fashion and stays inside the little booth. 

Steve looks around the brightly lit store, cringing at the pop music blaring from the speakers. The clientele are mostly young girls in dire need of a lard sandwich, and Steve feels very much out of place. A young couple approaches the dressing rooms and the girl hands her boyfriend her purse before ducking into a stall. The guy huffs out a sigh and drops down next to Steve, slinging the purse to the floor.

“Girlfriends, am I right?” The guy says, and Steve snorts as he chokes on his smoothie. He is never letting Bucky live this down. 

“Yeah,” Steve replies, barely contained laughter pushing at his lips. “My Jamie is quite the princess.” 

“Steve, I swear to god,” Bucky says abruptly from his booth, and the guy’s eyes widen as Steve laughs. 

“It makes me feel better that even you guys don’t get out of this,” the guy says, holding up the purse as Steve takes a long drink of his smoothie. The guy holds out his Starbucks cup and they bump their drinks together in solidarity. 

“Yeah,” Steve replies. “It ain’t all awesome blowjobs and rainbow flags, you know?”

“Steve!” Bucky says, suddenly standing in front of him in the clothes he wore into the store. He grabs Steve’s arm with the hand not currently grasping a shitload of clothes and hauls Steve to his feet, leaving the guy with his girlfriend’s purse to gape like a fish. “I can’t take you anywhere.” 

“You love it,” Steve says, leaning in to kiss Bucky’s temple as he sets his clothes down on the counter and asks the clerk to hold them. Then, much to Steve’s horror, turns around and heads towards the back of the store. “What are you doing?” 

Bucky doesn’t answer, just starts plucking more things off of shelves and racks and draping them over his arm. Steve follows like a lost puppy, eager to get the hell out of this store. Bucky stops abruptly and turns around, thrusting his arms out at Steve who in turn just raises an eyebrow. 

“Here,” Bucky says, and Steve glances from the clothes and back up to Bucky’s eager face. It seems to click then, and Steve shakes his head. “No, I’m not trying this shit on.”

“Oh, come on!” Bucky replies, making his eyes big and round. Steve quickly looks away. “Fine.” 

“Thank you,” Steve says, risking a glance back at his boyfriend. Those anime eyes will be the death of him someday. 

“You know what we’ve never done?” Bucky asks suddenly, and Steve raises a questioning eyebrow. “We’ve never fooled around in a dressing room. And what else was it you wanted earlier? A Cinnabon and what else?” Bucky asks innocently, deliberately licking his lips. Steve scowls. “I can’t remember. What a shame.” 

“You are fucking evil,” Steve hisses, and Bucky just grins serenely, lips shiny with spit. Steve leans in and presses their lips together, hard and quick. “God, I love it. Give me the clothes.” 

Bucky laughs and hands the garments over, trailing after Steve towards the dressing rooms. The couple from earlier is just making their way out, and Steve winks at the guy before shoving Bucky into the furthest stall with a mischievous cackle.

Later, they sit outside at a picnic table on the promenade while Steve eats his cinnamon roll and Bucky smokes a cigarette, shopping bags at their feet. Bucky is in an incredibly good mood, thanks in part to awesome sales and mutual blowjobs in public places.

“You know what we should do tonight?” Steve asks, sucking creamy frosting off of his thumb.

“What’s that, honey bun?” Bucky asks, fluttering his lashes and then smirking when Steve rolls his eyes. Bucky drops his cigarette butt on the ground and crushes it with his toe, leaning over the table and opening his mouth expectantly. Steve tears off a piece of cinnamon roll and places it on Bucky’s tongue, chucking slightly when Bucky nips the tip of his finger. 

“We should go on a date,” Steve says, and Bucky raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of soda. “We’ve never really been on a real date, you know?”

“Steve, I’m pretty sure we’ve been dating since we were born,” Bucky replies, but he can’t help grinning around his straw. Sometimes Steve is such a sap. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, wiping his hands on a napkin. “But I want to take you out to dinner. I was thinking we could drive out to Huntington Beach, go to that diner on the pier you like so much. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen the ocean.”

“I’d like that,” Bucky replies, and Steve gives him a soft, private smile. Bucky’s heart skitter-stops for just a moment. 

Sometimes he forgets how lucky he is, and all it takes is that smile to remind him.

  
  



	15. Chapter 15

As far as dates go, theirs is pretty amazing.

They get banana caramel milkshakes and clam chowder in a booth with an ocean view, playing footsie under the table as they talk about their classes, their friends, and what they miss about home. 

The sun sets while they talk, and when they exit the restaurant the sky is streaked with purple and gold, color hitting the gentle waves as they lap at the shore. They walk along the sand for a while, hands interlocked like the most ridiculous cliché, swapping kisses as the night sky begins to twinkle with stars. 

They catch a movie, some comedy Bucky can barely pay attention to because he’s too busy holding Steve’s hand. 

It’s sort of amazing how perfect it is. 

It’s not often they get to put their history aside and just be boyfriends. They mean so much to each other that boyfriend doesn’t seem like a big enough word, not nearly enough to describe what they are to each other. 

There aren’t any words big enough, actually. 

When the night is over and they find themselves standing in front of their dorm room door, Bucky turns around and rests his back against the door, glancing up at Steve as the taller boy places his palms against the door on either side of Bucky’s head, caging him in. 

“That went pretty well, as far as first dates go,” Steve says softly, and Bucky nods. Steve dips his head and presses their lips together, so soft and sweet that Bucky’s knees nearly buckle. Their tongues brush, sending sparks flying up Bucky’s spine. 

Bucky reaches behind himself as they kiss, wrapping his fingers around the doorknob and opening it. They go stumbling into the room and Bucky pulls away, mock yawning as he kicks off his pants and pulls off his shirt. 

Steve watches him hungrily, his expression going from desire to confusion when Bucky climbs under the covers of the air mattress, curling up on his side like he’s going to sleep. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “I wanna have sex.” 

“What?” Bucky cries, gasping dramatically. “You want me to put out on the first date? What kind of boy do you think I am?” 

Steve growls and Bucky cracks up laughing. He throws his head back and laughs even harder when Steve jumps on top of him, hands bracketing Bucky’s hips and squeezing. 

“Why don’t you show me what kind of boy you are?” Steve whispers into Bucky’s ear, teeth nipping at the lobe, and Bucky shivers. His laughter turns into a choked groan and his hands go to the button of Steve’s jeans. 

“I’d love to,” Bucky breathes, and dips his hand into Steve’s underwear.

  
  



	16. Chapter 16

Halloween rolls around quickly. Steve and Bucky sort of throw together super lame (and super gay and matching!) costumes at the very last minute.

They pick Natasha up as scheduled in the parking lot outside her dorm, and Steve whistles as she walks up to the car. She’s dressed up like a cat. More specifically, a slutty cat. Her costume consists of a black corset top, black hot pants, fishnet stockings, and cat ears. She has a black spot on the end of her nose and whiskers on her cheeks. She looks gorgeous. And also slutty.

“What’s up, tits?” Bucky asks, watching Natasha in the rearview mirror as she throws her giant make-up bag in the car and climbs in the backseat. She glances down at her boobs, which appear to be trying desperately to escape her top. She smiles mischievously and punches Bucky in the shoulder. She leans forward between the seats, glancing at them. Steve politely keeps his eyes on her face. Bucky feels like rewarding him for that, because damn, that can’t be easy. 

“Seriously?” Natasha asks when she sees their costumes. “That’s the best you could come up with?” 

“Oh, because slutty cat is so original?” Steve asks, smirking. Natasha hisses at him, hand curled like a claw before she flops back down in the seat. “But seriously, thanks for agreeing to do Ben and Garrett’s make-up.”

“Please,” she replies, waving her hand as Bucky pulls out of the parking lot. “Putting make-up on pretty boys? They’re doing me a favor.” 

Bucky just smirks. It doesn’t take very long to drive to their brothers’ apartment, probably less than five minutes, but no one is going to feel like walking home in the middle of the night. If they are in any sort of state to be driving. Bucky assumes they will be crashing on the floor and blearily driving home with a massive hangover the next morning. 

Bucky opens the door without knocking once they reach the apartment, just as Ben is walking by in nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. 

“Ever heard of this thing called knocking, assfuck? See, what you do is curl your little hand like this and rap your knuckles repeatedly – oh. Hi,” Ben says, cutting off his rant when he sees Natasha. 

“Hi,” she replies amusedly, staring at him with a quirked eyebrow. Ben just stares at her somewhat awkwardly. 

“Uh, you remember Natasha?” Bucky says, and it takes Ben a few moments to snap out of it. He shakes his head a little and looks over at Bucky before his gaze flickers back to Natasha.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, cocking his head to the side a little. Natasha doesn’t seem to notice the scrutiny. She just holds up her bag and shakes it a little. 

“Hey Ben,” she says. “Wanna get started? Or, well, Garrett will take a lot longer to do. So maybe we should do him first?”

“What?” Ben asks dumbly, eyes widening a little until something seems to click in his head. “Oh, make-up. Right. Um, he went to the store.”

“You first it is then,” Natasha says, leaning over to flick on the light over the kitchen table. She unzips her bag and starts taking out her tools. Ben just looks her up and down and then nods, swallowing hard. 

“Sure, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Just let me – um, clothes.” With that, he disappears into the bedroom. 

“What the fuck was that?” Steve asks with a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ben at a loss for words before.”

“Thank Natasha’s boobs for causing such a rare and wondrous occurrence,” Bucky replies, and Natasha turns around to face him. 

“If you keep talking about my tits, I will show them to you,” she threatens, hands on her hips. Bucky wrinkles his nose.

“Ew, no,” he replies, shuddering comically. He reaches out to squeeze one and she scoffs and slaps his hand away.

“What happens if I talk about your tits?” Steve asks, barely holding back a laugh. Natasha just rolls her eyes and Bucky flicks his ear. Ben comes out of his room then, hair wet and tousled. He’s wearing a wifebeater and some old basketball shorts and he fidgets a little as he drops down into a kitchen chair. 

“Let’s get started!” Natasha says, picking up a black make-up pencil. She comes to stand between Ben’s legs, opening them wider with her thighs and leaning in to cup his face and press the pencil to it. Ben flushes pink, shooting Bucky a startled look. His eyes flick from Natasha’s face to her chest and then back to Bucky again, rapid and repeated. Steve gives him a dorky thumbs up from behind Natasha’s back.

Bucky just rolls his eyes and pulls Steve into the living room. Ben can fumble all over a pretty girl on his own. It’s only a few minutes later when Garrett calls Steve’s cell and tells them to come down to help with the groceries. And by groceries, he means a shitload of alcohol. Of course.

They set the bags down with a chorus of clinking glass before Garrett finally looks them over, eyes narrowing.

“Wait, are those my fucking scrubs?” Garrett asks, taking in Steve and Bucky’s costumes. Bucky is wearing a pair of dark blue scrubs, and Steve is wearing a pair of light green ones under a white lab coat. He even has a stethoscope around his neck. 

“Yes,” Steve says with a nod, grinning smarmily. “Yes they are.”

“Assholes,” Garrett replies, flicking his hair out of his face. “Whatever. Be lame in your lame ass costumes. I don’t even care. Now help me move the furniture, bitches.” 

They get the room ready for a party of Ben and Garrett’s caliber, pushing all the furniture against the walls and taking anything expensive and/or breakable into the bedrooms. Getting an aquarium knocked over is something that only has to happen once. No more poor little fishies will die in the name of a drunken good time. 

“Hey!” Natasha says once they come back into the living room. Ben has disappeared again, presumably to do his hair and change into his costume. “Your turn, Garrett.” 

“Awesome,” he replies, heading over to take the chair Ben vacated. Natasha walks over to Steve and Bucky with a spring in her step, furry cat tail bouncing behind her. 

“I think Ben likes me,” Natasha laughs quietly, leaning in towards them and tugging at the hem of Bucky’s scrub top. Bucky scoffs and tugs at one of her kitty ears. 

“Ben likes everyone,” Steve replies, fiddling with the end of his stethoscope. 

“Well, his dick certainly likes me,” she adds, and Bucky lets out a snort. He looks her up and down blatantly, raising his eyebrows.

“Natasha, I think my dick could learn to like you in that outfit,” Bucky tells her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. She giggles and tosses her hair over her shoulder. 

“Holy shit! Bucky just referred to his dick in relation to a vagina,” Steve exclaims, eyes wide with shock. “My entire world has just been turned upside down.” 

“I know, right?” Bucky responds, winking at him and kissing Natasha’s forehead before letting her go. Steve grabs him by the wrist and presses the stethoscope against Bucky’s chest.

“Turn your head and cough,” Steve says seriously, reaching down to grab Bucky’s crotch. Bucky squeaks and jumps backwards as Natasha laughs. 

“Get over here and paint my face, woman!” Garrett calls out, and Natasha saunters over, feminine assets bouncing along with her.

It’s another hour or so before people start showing up. Everyone in their group are among the first to arrive – Sam, Wanda, Wade, and Peter are followed by Clint, Scott, Tony and Bruce.

Scott sets another overflowing bag of booze on the kitchen counter and lets out a bark of laughter when he walks back into the living room and spots Ben and Garrett decked out in their costumes. Ben and Garrett look each other up and down and then shrug. 

“Batman and the Joker?” Clint gasps out, gripping the back of the couch for support. “I thought your brothers were the gay ones?”

“Fuck you,” Ben replies simply, straightening his mask. Steve laughs loudly because yeah, they look pretty gay.

“And what are you two supposed to be?” Wade asks Steve and Bucky, pushing his fedora back. He’s dressed as a 20’s era gangster, but he can’t quite pull it off. His face is too friendly. 

“I’m a slutty nurse,” Bucky replies, lips shiny from the beer he’s been nursing. Wade looks him up and down, obviously confused. “What? It’s a very traditional Halloween costume.” 

“Yeah, I know. For girls. How are you slutty?” He asks. “You’re just wearing a regular pair of scrubs. They’re even too big for you.” 

“Because they’re mine,” Garrett says, pushing Bucky’s shoulder. Natasha did a pretty fantastic job on his Joker make-up. Steve’s gigantic dork of a brother actually looks sort of sinister. 

“I’m gonna blow Dr. Rogers in the bathroom later,” Bucky replies nonchalantly, hooking his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. “That is what makes me slutty.” 

“I concede. You’re a slut,” Wade responds, his eyes landing hard on Natasha. “Here kitty, kitty!” He yells, chasing a laughing Natasha around the apartment and tugging at her tail. 

“You really gonna blow me in the bathroom?” Steve asks, hooking his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and breathing hot into his ear. 

“If you’re lucky,” he replies, eyes shining bright green as he nips at his jaw. “Doctor.”

Steve sort of loses track of time after a while (and some drinks). The apartment is filled to the brim with people, some he knows but most he doesn’t, and all of them combined make the air heavy and warm. Music reverberates around the room, bass loud enough to make the floors shake under his feet. He’s actually surprised the cops haven’t come yet.

And he’s drunk, that’s for sure. First came the beers they drank to kick off the night, and then the tequila shots with Bucky. That was nice. They licked salt off each other and shared the lemon between their mouths. Next came the Buttery Nipples that Natasha and Wanda made them, complete with generous dollops of whipped cream. And then came, well, he can’t quite remember what else he drank exactly, only that there was copious amounts of it and it was good. 

He’s having a great time, except for that, well, he has sort of lost his boyfriend. He stands on his tiptoes and scans the crowd, but he doesn’t see him. He does spot Ben though. Batman became fed up with his mask shortly after getting drunk and abandoned it somewhere, so now he’s just a dude with a black plastic six pack and a cape. He obviously tried to wash off the make-up, but it didn’t quite work. His eyes are still lined with enough smeared black kohl to make him look like a punk band reject. In a cape. 

“Ben!” Steve calls out, realizing after a moment that Ben is talking to Natasha. He seems a lot less awkward around her than he did earlier, but that could be the alcohol. Steve sort of wants to wish him good luck, but Natasha might smack him. He looks to be doing fine all on his own. 

“Have you seen Bucky?” Steve shouts over the music once he reaches them. He’s insanely drunk and he sort of wants to go outside, get some peace and quiet for a second. It’s way too hot and his cheeks are flushed, hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Tony dragged him off somewhere,” Ben shouts back, waving a hand around. “I think they’re dancing.”

“Dancing?” Steve repeats, and Natasha raises an eyebrow, curious gaze fixed to her right. She nudges Steve’s shoulder and points, not looking pleased. Steve spins around to see Bucky and Tony mixed in with the crowd, pressed all together and moving to the music. Steve’s stomach clenches painfully, anger rising like bile in the back of his throat so fast his head spins.

He stalks over towards them before he even has the time to think about it, but what happens next seems like it’s in slow motion. Bucky tosses his head back with a laugh and Tony surges forward, crushing his mouth to Bucky’s in a bruising kiss. Steve stumbles to a stop, momentarily frozen.

Tony is kissing Bucky. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been angrier in his entire fucking life. All he wants to do is rip Tony’s head off with his bare hands for even thinking about touching his boyfriend like that.

Bucky pulls away in shock, pushing Tony back by the chest and wiping his hand across his mouth. Tony steps forward like he’s going to touch Bucky again, like he has the fucking right, but Steve gets there first. He steps in and pushes Tony hard, sending him stumbling backwards and nearly falling on his ass. 

“What the fuck?” Steve shouts, loud enough to be heard over the music. Tony straightens up, eyes dancing with laughter. The people circling them stop dancing, turning around to find the source of all the commotion. 

“Just havin’ a little fun,” Tony slurs, and Steve’s hand curls into a fist as his vision goes red. Bucky puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder and he shrugs it off. 

“You don’t get to have that sort of fun, asshole,” he yells back, so furious that he’s shaking with it.

“Easy, tiger,” Tony drawls, like he doesn’t realize how mad Steve is, or he just doesn’t care. Steve snaps, lunging forward to grab Tony by the front of his shirt, lifting him until his feet scramble helplessly against the floor. Tony suddenly seems to understand the gravity of the situation, clawing at Steve’s forearms and letting out a choking gasp. 

“Steve, stop!” Bucky says, reaching up to pull on Steve’s shoulder just as Ben and Garrett push their way through the crowd that has started to form. 

“What the hell is going on?” Garrett asks loudly, taking in the scene with a shocked expression. 

“He fucking kissed Bucky,” Steve snarls, letting go of Tony and sending him stumbling again. “Kissed him right in front of me.”

“He’s drunk, Stevie,” Bucky says, sounding far from sober himself as he tugs on Steve’s arm. “Let it go, please?” 

“Shit, man,” Tony says, holding his hands up in defense. “’M sorry. I wasn’t thinkin’.” 

“Steve, why don’t you go somewhere and calm down, alright?” Garrett says, putting his hand on Steve’s chest and nudging him back. He turns to Tony, eyes hard. “And you’re cut off, man. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry,” Tony repeats, shaking his head and backing through the crowd. Steve’s chest is heaving, fists curled so tight that his nails are digging painful crescents into his palms. 

“Get him out of here,” Ben says to Bucky, a disappointed Natasha at his side. Steve can feel Bucky tugging on his hand, pulling him backwards until he loses sight of the back of Tony’s head. God, he wants to fucking kill him. 

Bucky pulls him into Ben’s room and shuts the door, casting them in dim golden light and muffling the music. Steve rips his hand from Bucky’s grasp and starts pacing back and forth. 

He buries his hands in his hair and wishes he wasn’t so fucking drunk, because maybe then he would be able to calm down. Maybe his blood wouldn’t feel like it was boiling in his veins. 

“Are you mad at me?” Bucky asks, sounding afraid of the answer. “I’m sorry, Stevie.” 

“What?” Steve asks, whirling on Bucky. He looks scared and upset, bottom lip jutting out slightly and eyes wide. “Shut the fuck up, okay? I’m mad at him. Christ, Bucky.” 

“He’s really drunk,” Bucky says again, licking his lips. “He didn’t mean it.” 

“Do you think that makes it okay?” Steve shouts out. “I don’t fucking give a shit why he did it. He kissed you when he knows you’re mine!” 

“Calm down, okay?” Bucky says, slumping against the wall. “Forget about it.” 

“No, Bucky. Fuck!” He takes a deep breath and it doesn’t really help. “How would you feel if you saw someone else kissing me, huh?” Bucky’s face twists into a grimace, like the thought alone is painful. “Exactly. So don’t fucking tell me to calm down.” 

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says, holding up his hands in defeat. He runs his fingers through his messy hair, cheeks flushed pink. He looks so goddamn gorgeous that Steve wants to lock him up, put him somewhere no one will ever even look at him again. He wants to mark him up, stake his claim.

“That mouth is mine,” Steve says roughly, licking his lips. “No one gets to kiss you but me, ever again.” 

“Then come kiss me,” Bucky demands, eyes darkening as he looks Steve up and down. Steve crosses the room in three quick strides, grabbing Bucky’s shoulders to slam him against the wall. Bucky moans as Steve presses their mouths together, rough and aggressive. He pushes his tongue past Bucky’s lips, fucking it in and out as he rolls his hips against Bucky’s. 

Bucky gives as good as he gets, hands scrambling on Steve’s shoulders and pulling at his hair, kissing back just as hard. 

Steve kisses him until he’s dizzy, just because he fucking can. Bucky is his to kiss, his to fuck, his to love. Bucky whines when he pulls away and Steve drags his thumb roughly over Bucky’s slick, puffy lips. 

“You like kissing me?” Steve asks, voice like broken glass. Bucky nods helplessly, panting harshly. “You like sucking my dick, don’t you Buck? Wrapping those fucking lips around me and swallowing all my come?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, insane with lust. His eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide and rimmed with bright jade. Sweat beads at his hairline and Steve slides his hand from Bucky’s mouth down to his throat, closing his fingers over it and squeezing slightly. Bucky lets out a wheezing gasp, hips jerking against Steve’s other palm as it curls around his hip.

“Want me to fuck you, baby? I’ll take good care of that little hole; shove my fat cock in there, make you take it all.” Steve rasps, squeezing a little tighter. Bucky nods, hands coming up to clutch at Steve’s forearm, nails digging in when Steve’s grip becomes too tight. He pulls his hand away and Bucky sucks in a deep breath. Steve undoes the tie of his scrub pants and Bucky’s eyes are drawn to the tent in them, licking his lips like he’s fucking starving for it. 

“Better suck it real good,” Steve rasps, shoving his pants and underwear down to his thighs, exposing his hard cock. Bucky licks his lips, and bites down to stifle a groan. “Get it nice and wet, because that’s all you’re gonna get.” 

“Fuck,” Bucky pants, dropping instantly to his knees. He wraps his hand around the base of Steve’s cock and sucks the head into his mouth. He doesn’t dare tease, just starts bobbing up and down and slicking the skin with his tongue. Steve twists his fingers in Bucky’s hair, pulling slightly and watching those puffy red lips stretch around his dick. Bucky relaxes his throat, goes slack until Steve gets the hint and pushes, sliding his dick down into that tight heat. He holds it there, presses on the back of Bucky’s head until his nose is smashed against Steve’s pelvis. He waits until Bucky reaches up and slaps his palm against Steve’s belly, fingernails digging in painfully. Steve pulls out then, eyes gleaming as Bucky sucks in a breath and licks his swollen lips. 

He knows every single one of Bucky’s kinks. He knows just how and where to touch, knows how to give him what he needs. And he’s the only one. 

“Wet enough?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods jerkily. Steve pulls him up and Bucky fumbles with the tie of his own pants, kicking them off along with his shoes. He goes to face the wall but Steve growls, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around. He needs to see his fucking mouth, needs to have access to those puffy pink lips. 

He sucks on two of his fingers and kicks Bucky’s legs apart with his foot, eyes on Bucky’s face as he reaches between his legs. He pushes one finger inside of him without hesitation, eyes lighting up when Bucky moans loudly. He barely waits before shoving the other one alongside it, fucking them into him quick and hard. 

“Fuck me,” Bucky pleads, pulling on the lapels of Steve’s white lab coat. He looks so desperate, eyes wide and wet, sweat beading on his face and neck. And his mouth, so red and swollen from Steve’s cock and his harsh kisses. “Please, baby. Fuck me please.” 

Steve growls and pulls his fingers out, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist and lifting him up off of the floor. Bucky’s back hits the wall and he wraps one leg around Steve’s waist. Steve hooks his arm under Bucky’s other knee and holds him open, thighs parted for Steve’s hips. Steve braces himself against the wall with one hand as he spits into the other, slicking his cock a little more before he lines up and pushes into Bucky’s body, bottoming out without pause. It’s so tight, so hot, so perfect. 

Bucky lets his head fall back against the wall, crying out as Steve starts to fuck him. Steve’s arms burn with the strain of holding Bucky up but he barely notices, too busy watching Bucky’s face as he slams up into him, hard and rough. He feels the slight drag of not enough lube, but that’s okay. He wants Bucky to feel him for days, know who he fucking belongs to. And if Bucky’s moans of encouragement are anything to go by, he’s feeling no pain. 

Bucky keeps his leg hooked over Steve’s arm, the back of his knee resting in the crook of his elbow. He clings to Steve like a limpet, trying to brace some of his weight against the wall as Steve fucks into him with deep, rolling thrusts. 

“You’re mine, Bucky,” Steve grits out, leaning in to suck and bite at Bucky’s neck, marking him. Owning him. “You fucking hear me?” 

“Yours! Yours, fucking yours. Oh please, fuck me! Fuck me, Steve, c’mon. Love you, baby, please.” Bucky is babbling, all coherent thought gone as Steve pounds into him. His arms are tight around Steve’s neck, fingers wrapped painfully in his hair. 

Steve’s arms ache, muscles bunching under his sweaty skin. He shifts, finds a way that he can keep fucking into Bucky and still wrap a hand around Bucky’s dick. He squeezes hard around the shaft and pulls up. That’s all it takes. Bucky screams out, and Steve hopes everyone in the whole fucking building can hear it. 

His come slicks Steve’s hand, shoots up his stomach and chest and he nearly sobs as he just keeps coming. The sight is so fucking hot, and Steve’s orgasm rips through him seconds later. He lets out a shout as he empties deep into Bucky, marks him up inside. 

He pulls out of Bucky and allows his feet to slip to the floor, but he doesn’t trust Bucky’s shaky legs to hold him up. Steve keeps his arms around Bucky’s waist, burying his face in Bucky’s neck as they shake with aftershocks. 

Their scrub tops are soaked with sweat and Steve’s pants are tangled uncomfortably between his knees. The lab coat is keeping all the heat trapped inside his body, and he would like nothing more than to take it off. 

He pulls away once he thinks Bucky can stand, shrugging out of the coat and pulling his scrub pants back up. Bucky moves to do the same, wincing when he shifts his hips. 

“You okay?” Steve asks, suddenly afraid that he’s hurt him. Bucky just looks up at him, eyelids drooping as he gives him a fond look. 

“I’m fine, you toppy possessive bastard,” he replies, but he’s smiling. “Fuck, that was hot.”

Steve is inclined to agree. 

They leave Ben’s bedroom hand in hand and when they rejoin the party, Tony and Bruce are nowhere to be seen. Wade starts a round of applause that everyone quickly joins in on. Steve is expecting Bucky to blush, but instead he bows graciously.

“You’re burning those scrubs and buying me new ones,” Garrett says, wrinkling his nose. Ben is staring at them with one eye closed, which means he’s fucking wasted. 

“My bed?” Ben slurs, scandalized. Natasha looks interested, her green eyes a little glazed over and her whiskers slightly smudged. 

“Your wall, big brother,” Bucky says with a wink. Ben makes a retching sound and buries his face in Natasha’s hair. 

Bucky just laughs and looks over at Steve, gaze soft and knowing. Steve smiles at him and pulls him in for a kiss. 

Like there was any question of who Steve belongs to. He’s been Bucky’s since the day he was born.

  
  



	17. Chapter 17

Steve and Bucky spend a lazy Sunday afternoon holed up in their room getting hot and sweaty despite the crisp air outside. By the time they’re finished Steve is wincing at the ache in his ass, courtesy of Bucky’s revenge for the pounding Steve gave him on Halloween.

They’re roused by an insistent knocking on their door and they share a quizzical look, each pulling on a pair of sweats before Steve gets up to answer it. Peter slides in as soon as Steve opens it, slamming the door shut and leaning back against it. 

“What’s up, Pete?” Bucky coos, and Peter shoots him a look. 

“Call me that again and Steve will mourn the loss of your dick,” he seethes. Bucky shudders theatrically and sits on the edge of one of the beds as Steve flips the air mattress up against the wall to make room. 

“Ooh, scary,” Bucky says sarcastically, and Peter narrows his ice blue eyes. “We all know you love it when Wade calls you that.” 

“Seriously,” Peter says, pointing a stern finger at him. “Dick, balls. All of it, gone.”

“You try to act all tough, but truth is, you adore us,” Bucky singsongs, hands interlocking under his chin as he flutters his eyelashes. Peter shoots Steve a glare and Steve bites his lip to keep from cracking up. 

“What is his deal?” Peter asks, waving an angry hand in Bucky’s general direction. Steve runs his fingers through his tangled hair and shrugs helplessly. 

“He got to top,” Steve says blandly, and Peter rolls his eyes. 

“Of course. All the power went to his head because he’s such a nelly bottom,” Peter replies at Bucky, who just hums happily and flips him off. 

“Basically,” Steve retorts. “Gotta let him think he’s tough and manly every once in a while.”

“Y’all can try and destroy my amicable mood,” Bucky says, stretching and grabbing his phone off of the floor. “But you’ll fail. I’m a happy boy today.” 

“Your ass must be magical,” Peter says to Steve, who merely shrugs. It does seem to possess certain happy-making qualities when it comes to his boyfriend.

“Is there a reason you’re hiding in our room?” Steve asks, and Peter rolls his eyes as he drops into a desk chair. 

“We’re his favorite,” Bucky repeats as he tosses his phone aside and lies back on the bed. Steve drops on top of him and Bucky lets out an oomph, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and laughing. 

“He’s sort of right,” Peter replies, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s seemingly unperturbed by their excessive and over exuberant public displays of affection. But all their friends sort of have to be if they ever want to occupy the same room as the two of them at the same time. “If by favorite he means least annoying. Usually.” 

“You say potato, I say – "

“Shut up, Bucky. Damn.” 

“Anyway,” Peter starts. “208 keeps coming to me because her boyfriend dumped her. Which, okay, sucks for her and everything. But they went out for two weeks. Two weeks! And now because I’m her RA I’m expected to get fat off of Haagen-Dazs and watch Hope Floats with her? No. I don’t have the patience for that.”

Wade walks in their room unannounced, slipping his phone in his pocket. Steve rolls his eyes. Bucky obviously alerted Wade of their visitor. 

“You don’t have the patience for most things, Petey-pie,” Wade says, and Bucky lets out a snort of laughter. “And I prefer Ben and Jerry’s.”

“So I’m hiding out in here,” Peter says, completely ignoring Wade. “Most people don’t come in here because they’re too afraid they’re either going to a, walk in on gay sex, or b, Bucky will rip their fucking head off. Usually,” he adds, narrowing his eyes at Bucky’s lazy grin like he’s annoyed that he’s lost his comrade in bitchiness.

“I for one barge in here hoping to walk in on gay sex,” Wade says, and unceremoniously drops down onto Peter’s lap. He wraps his arms around the agitated RA’s neck and Peter spits and hisses, trying but failing to push him off. “Don’t fight it, Punkin! Embrace your feelings!”

“I hate you,” Peter says, letting his forehead drop forward onto Wade’s shoulder. “So much.”

“That’s a lie,” Bucky shouts, nudging Steve’s shoulder happily and gesturing towards them. Steve smiles fondly. Bucky has secretly been rooting for the mismatched couple since day one. He thinks they’d be perfect for each other and Steve is inclined to agree, but he is so not down with playing Cupid to a bunch of clueless upperclassmen.

The four of them eventually settle into comfortable positions, hiding from the world and watching TV late into the night. Steve is relaxed and amused, due to Bucky dozing lazily with his head on his lap and Peter slapping Wade’s arm every single time he tries to put it around his shoulders but never pulling away. 

Steve thinks maybe he should pull Peter aside, teach him a thing or two about not realizing what you’ve got right in front of your face. Steve is well versed in that particular subject. 

You’ve got to open your eyes, realize that you already have what you’ve wanted all along, and then take it. 

And then it’s yours to keep forever, if you can manage to hold onto it for that long.

  
  



	18. Chapter 18

Steve is just leaving work when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He grabs it and doesn’t glance at the display, assuming that it’s Bucky.

“Hey,” he answers, taking a giant bite of a cranberry orange muffin. 

“Uh, hey.” Steve swallows painfully. It’s Tony, who he hasn’t spoken to since he kissed Bucky three days ago. Well, this should be pleasant. Or, you know, not. 

“What’s up, Tony?” Steve asks politely. He’s sort of the forgiving type, and he is pretty much over what happened. Kind of. Not that he’s ready to make friendship bracelets with the dude who wants to bang his boyfriend, but still.

“This is fucking awkward,” Tony starts, “but, uh, I wanted to call and say sorry, you know? For the other night.”

“Okay, thanks,” Steve replies as he climbs into his truck and shuts the door. “I’m not gonna say it wasn’t fucked up, but I think I can be convinced to let you live.”

“Good, ‘cause you know I’d never do anything, right?” There’s a pause. “On purpose, that is. You kids are it, ya know? I’d be damn foolish to try to get in the way of that. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t.” 

Steve furrows his brow. This seems like quite a speech to apologize for drunkenly kissing Bucky. Steve is about to say something, but Tony continues.

“This is my shit, dude. And I’ll deal with it,” Tony says decisively, letting out a harsh sigh and completely rocking Steve’s world in a not very good way.

It hits Steve then, like a kick to the gut. Tony isn’t just dealing with residual lust from their extended fling, he’s fucking in love with Bucky. 

The coffee he drank during his shift rolls unpleasantly in his belly and he stares blankly out of the windshield until Tony calls his name. 

“Uh, good to hear, Tony,” he mumbles. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Listen, I’m driving so I need to go. Thanks for calling.”

He hangs up before Tony can respond, dropping his phone onto the seat. He buries his fingers in his hair and tips his head back. He isn’t exactly sure what the proper protocol is when you find out that your boyfriend’s ex-something or other is in love with him. Bucky and Tony have a history. Not nearly as long and extensive as their own, but it’s still there.

His phone goes off, distracting him from his thoughts. It’s a new text from Bucky.  _ You off work yet? I’m in Sam’s room. Come here instead of ours. Hurry, before the coffee smell wears off! <3 _

It makes Steve smile, and he tries to push this new information to the back of his mind. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. 

_ not in public u freak. be right there. _ He sends the text and takes a deep breath before starting his truck.

It doesn’t matter. It means nothing.

  
  



	19. Chapter 19

Steve normally doesn’t try to over think things, which is evident by the fact that he fucked Bucky within hours of the other boy confessing his feelings for him, when the normal response might have been to freak out, to thinks things over a little. Not that he regrets his decision, but still. He didn’t really think that hard about it. It just sort of happened.

But this thing with Tony? That he thinks about. He thinks about it as he parks in his normal spot and walks to the dorm, thinks about it when he enters the dorm and climbs the stairs. He hears the sounds of delighted laughter but they don’t even really register, he’s thinking so hard. But then he lets himself into Sam’s room, one floor below his own, and promptly stops thinking.

Sam is alone in the room, sitting on his bed with a hardcover copy of Twilight open on his lap. He barely glances up when Steve enters the room and he raises a curious eyebrow. Sam is reading Twilight of what appears to be his own free will, and Steve doesn’t really know what to do with that. 

“Bit of light reading?” Steve chuckles, and Sam glares up at him. 

“Wanda is making me read it,” Sam grumbles, licking a fingertip and flipping the page. “The movie is coming out in a few weeks, and I apparently have to be prepared.” He adds finger quotes around the last bit, but doesn’t stop reading. 

“Okay, but is she forcing you to enjoy it?” Steve laughs, stretching until his back pops. “You look pretty enthralled, dude.” 

“Fuck you,” Sam shoots back. “Like Bucky never makes you do shit you don’t wanna do. I bet he can withhold sex with the best of them. Think they fucking take classes, man.”

“Luckily for me, I’m not dating a girl,” Steve replies with a gleeful smirk. Famous last words, apparently. 

Bucky and Wanda burst into the room then, a red feather boa tangled around both of their necks. Wanda giggles, and Steve recognizes it as the laughter that was bouncing around the halls. They set down a small mountain of soda and candy onto the desk and Bucky bounces over to Steve, throwing his arms around him. Wanda squeaks as she is jerked forward by the boa and Steve coughs as he inhales feathers and perfume. 

“Mmm, Arabica beans,” Bucky moans, inhaling deeply. Steve knits his brows together and awkwardly hugs them both. 

“As you were saying?” Sam says smugly. Steve blinks. While it’s true that Bucky is astonishingly gay, Steve didn’t really think he was feather boa gay. Actually, he’s never thought of anyone as feather boa gay before. “Also,” Sam continues, “our girlfriends were hella rocking out to Britney Spears earlier.” 

Until now. Bucky is officially feather boa gay.

“Was not!” Bucky shrieks, pulling away from Steve to whirl on Sam. Wanda wraps her arm around Bucky’s waist, because she’s sort of stuck to him and he won’t stop moving. “I was farting and ya know, burping!” He situates himself behind Wanda and reaches up to grab at her chest. “Feelin’ up chicks!” 

“Whoa, hey!” Sam calls out, dropping his book. “Get your hands off of her tits!”

“Calm down,” Wanda giggles, reaching up to put her hands over Bucky’s. Steve just sort of stares. And tries not to get turned on. Seeing Bucky feel up a girl is strangely hot, but also just unnatural. “He sees them all the time. Like, when we go shopping.” 

“That’s right,” Bucky says, pressing his large hands against Wanda’s boobs. Steve shifts his hips and Sam looks enraged. “I’m gay. I could motorboat these bad boys and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

Sam glares, eyes narrowing into slits. Steve just laughs. Wanda twirls around in Bucky’s arms, looping her arms around his neck.

“And we were so jamming to Britney. Don’t lie.” She starts up with a chorus of la la la’s and Bucky scrunches his face up, like he’s trying not to get into it. But when Wanda leans over to flip on the stereo, filling the room with loud pop music, he loses it. Steve watches in horror as his gorgeous boyfriend, who can play the guitar and sings him sweet lullabies, starts butchering an already awful Britney Spears song. There is only one possible explanation. 

“Where’d you guys get the weed?” Steve asks, spinning on his heels to face Sam. Steve waves his arm towards Bucky and Wanda, barely listening to them babble. 

“Huh?” Sam asks, looking up from the book like he’s annoyed that Steve interrupted him. 

“You’re all high,” Steve replies. “That’s the only time Bucky lets his soul crushing love for Britney be known. Remember the time at that club in San Francisco when they played Radar and I had to stop him from getting up on the bar to dance with all the other feather boa fags?” 

“I was probably too busy trying to hide from the leather daddy with the sling, assfuck,” Sam says, glaring. He still doesn’t like to talk about that night. “And Wade gave us brownies,” he says, gesturing to the pan on the nightstand. Well, that isn’t surprising. 

“And the feather boa?” Steve asks. 

“Also Wade,” he replies. Sadly, that also isn’t surprising. He turns to watch Bucky and Wanda grind against each other, tilts his head to the side to admire them. They start singing the chorus, loud and breathy into each other’s faces. 

“Love me, hate me, say what you want about me. But all of the girls and all of the boys are begging to if you seek Amy!” 

“Okay, we get it!” Sam yells, closing his book and holding his place with his index finger. “You’re both super pretty and everyone wants to bang you!”

”What?” Steve asks as Bucky and Wanda giggle and dance. “That song doesn’t even make any sense.” 

“Say it slow,” Sam says. “If you seek Amy. F-U-C-K me. She’s saying fuck me. Now will you all shut the fuck up? Edward is showing her his sparkle!” 

Sam blinks then, eyes widening. He looks down at the book in his lap, and then over at his girlfriend who is currently happily grinding against a homo. And he totally just explained a Britney Spears song. 

“Oh my god,” Sam cries, throwing the book to the side. “Fuck my life!” 

“Three cocks and I’m the only man in this room,” Steve chuckles, reaching over to take a special brownie. Bucky untangles himself from Wanda and the boa, running over to jump up into Steve’s arms. Steve has to stuff the entire brownie in his mouth to catch him in time and still stumbles a little, nearly dropping him. 

“You’re such a man,” Bucky says, looking up at him with wide, glassy eyes. “You took it like a man last night. Didn’t you, baby? Took it all so good and begged for more.” Steve is unable to protest, mouth full of special brownie and arms full of stoned Bucky. But he did. He took it hard, and he loved it. 

“Haha, fag!” Sam laughs, gasping when Wanda throws herself on top of him. Bucky slithers down to stand unsteadily on his own feet as Steve tries to swallow the massive brownie. 

“I have to like Britney. It’s like, a prerequisite of being gay,” Bucky explains, molding himself against Steve’s side. “They’ll kick me out of the club if I don’t.”

“Four syllables means not enough brownie!” Sam calls out, gesturing towards the pan and laughing as Wanda giggles against his mouth. Bucky nods gravely and moves towards the pan. Steve smacks his hand away and takes another one for himself. 

“Save some for me, stoner,” Steve says. Bucky just watches as Steve eats the brownie, eyes flicking back and forth between Steve’s lips and his eyes. As soon as he’s done eating, Bucky lunges for him. He stumbles back, catching himself against the wall and gripping Bucky’s hips. Bucky eats at his mouth, sliding his tongue inside and sucking at his lips, licking away every last trace of chocolate. Steve moans low in his throat, fingers tangling in Bucky’s hair as they make out. 

It doesn’t take long for the pot to kick in. Steve doesn’t get stoned very often, and it just makes it that much better when he does. He’s completely relaxed – no stressing about classes, no being homesick, and no thinking about Tony’s revelation. Just him and Bucky, warm and pliant in each other’s arms. 

They slide to the floor, Steve sitting back against Sam’s bed, his head inches from Wanda’s foot. Perhaps if they were all a little more sober, they’d find it weird that they were making out just a few feet from each other with Britney blasting on the stereo and bright red feathers littering the floor. 

Sam’s roommate comes in a few minutes later, stammering and blushing when he spots them. Phil Coulson is a good guy, just insanely bookish and reserved. He’s not really interested in coming out of his shell, and they aren’t interested in making him. Phil clears his throat, breaking up the two couples. 

“Coulson!” Sam calls out, extracting his hands from Wanda’s shirt. “What’s up, man?” 

“Uh, nothing,” Phil replies, eyeing Steve and Bucky tangled together on his floor with trepidation, like the two couples were mere moments from merging to create an orgy right there in his dorm room. “I could, uh – go somewhere else?” 

“That’s okay,” Wanda says, rolling off of the bed. She’s wearing a tiny pair of shorts that show off her shapely legs and a tank top that Sam stretched out during their make out session, revealing ample cleavage. Phil just stares at her, turning an intense shade of red. Bucky gets up on his knees, wrapping his arm around Wanda’s leg and leaning in to kiss her thigh, right at the hem of her shorts. 

“Yeah, we can fuck anywhere, right?” Bucky asks, winking at Phil who coughs and chokes on his own spit. Steve rolls his eyes and tugs Bucky to his feet. Sam just comes up and slings one arm over Steve’s shoulders, wrapping the other around Wanda’s waist. 

“That’s true,” Sam says, leading them out of the room. Wanda brushes past Phil and giggles while Sam reaches out to poke the tip of his nose. “Don’t wait up.” 

“Coming, baby?” Steve calls out to Bucky, who grabs the pan of brownies and the boa, wrapping it around his neck. He throws Phil another wink and hurries out the door to catch up with his friends. 

“His face,” Bucky laughs once they reach he and Steve’s floor. “Fucking priceless!” 

“That was pretty awesome,” Wanda relents. “Even if he does think I’m being passed around like a bong.”

“When’s my turn?” Steve asks, wiggling his eyebrows and reaching out to snag Wanda by the waist. She giggles and presses back against him.

“Anytime, tiger,” she rasps, and Sam grabs her arm and pulls her back. 

“You’re not all the way gay, so you don’t get to touch! The only reason I don’t kick Bucky’s ass is because I don’t wanna get arrested for a fucking hate crime,” Sam shouts, and Steve rolls his eyes as he tangles his fingers with Bucky’s. Bucky loops the boa around his neck as well. 

“I’m pretty fuckin’ gay, dude,” Steve says, and Bucky grins at him. They’re nearly to Steve and Bucky’s room when Wade sticks his head out into the hallway. 

“Ah, when I heard shouting about being pretty fucking gay, somehow I knew it would be you,” Wade says, stepping out into the hall. He grins at them, flicking at the feather boa around Bucky and Steve’s necks. “How you kids doing? Nice and relaxed?” 

“You could say that,” Steve says, laughing when Wade smirks and takes the pan of brownies from Bucky. “I was just about to start a movie, if you guys wanna join me?” 

“We were actually going to go have an orgy in Steve and Bucky’s room,” Wanda says, managing to keep a straight face. Wade just smirks. He’s sort of a walking bullshit detector. 

“I’ve got a single. More room,” Wade says, holding the door open. Peter rounds the corner then, eyebrow rising apprehensively when he spots their group. 

“This can’t be good,” he says, walking up to them. “What are you guys up to?” 

“Oh, I’m just about to bring all these impressionable young freshman into my room so we can have group sex,” Wade says innocently. Peter just glares at him. “What? It’s a team building exercise!”

Peter looks at all of their faces and then at the pan of brownies in Wade’s hand. 

“You didn’t,” Peter says flatly, and Wade grins serenely. “If I get in trouble because you got my freshmen stoned, I will kill you.” 

“Want one?” Wade asks calmly, holding the pan out. Peter glares at him for a few moments longer, and then looks around. He grabs a brownie and stuffs it in his mouth before continuing down the hall. “He is so adorable.” 

“If you say so,” Wanda says, pushing past Wade and into his room. They all follow and Steve drops down on the end of the couch, pulling Bucky into his lap. 

Wade somehow wrangled one of the larger rooms on the floor, and not only that, he gets it all to himself. He has a large, comfortable couch in addition to his bed, and a huge flat panel television on the wall. Sam and Wanda take the other end of the couch and Wade drops down in the middle, eating a brownie as he starts the movie. He seems to have no problem sitting between two stoned, horny couples. 

Steve isn’t even aware of what movie it is, because Bucky untangles the boa from their necks and drops it in Wade’s lap before leaning in to give Steve a soft kiss. They make out, soft and lazy, throughout the entire thing. 

Bucky’s kisses are soft but passionate, tongue sweeping into his mouth. It makes Steve dizzy and he cups Bucky’s hip in his palm, thumb stroking back and forth across his tattoo. Bucky grins against his lips, his hand automatically slipping under Steve’s shirt to press against Steve’s ink as well. 

“Mm, love you,” Bucky breathes, leaning in to kiss him again. Steve slides his other hand under the back of Bucky’s shirt, hand pressed against the smooth skin at the small of Bucky’s back. 

“Love you too,” Steve whispers. They laugh when everyone loudly shushes them, but they don’t stop kissing. 

He only wishes he could have seen the night for what it was – the calm before the storm.

  
  



	20. Chapter 20

A few days pass and Steve has mostly forgotten Tony’s accidental confession – mostly because he has been too busy to think about it. All of his professors saw it fit to dump massive amounts of homework on him all at once, and he’s been helping out at Ed’s a little more since one of the other employees randomly quit.

There is a floor party tonight that he’s pretty excited about. Most of his homework is done, and it’s Friday, so no class in the morning. He’s been stressed and frazzled pretty much since Halloween, and he feels about at his breaking point. He needs to relax a bit. 

So, he sort of forgets about the Tony thing, until he is helpfully reminded. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” Bucky says as Steve is bent over his Biology textbook, getting some last minute cramming in before class. 

“Okay,” Steve says absently, pursing his lips when Bucky leans over to kiss his temple. Bucky is halfway across the room before Steve blinks, head popping up. “Wait, what? Where are you going?”

“Tony is in town,” Bucky replies, pulling on the black military jacket he looks way too fucking good in. “He had a meeting or something, so I was gonna hang out with him for awhile.” 

Steve swallows hard, a strange wave of heat running through him and settling in his stomach. Just like that, he realizes that he hasn’t forgiven Tony. He doesn’t trust Tony. It’s still too easy to conjure up memories of Bucky and Tony kissing, of Bucky leaning in close and telling Steve about the things they would do to each other back before Steve realized he wanted to do them himself. Bottom line, he doesn’t want Tony anywhere near Bucky. At least not alone. 

“I’ll come with you,” Steve says quickly, jumping up from the desk. His face is flushed with heat and he hopes Bucky doesn’t notice his reddened cheeks or the way his hands have started to shake slightly. Bucky gives him a confused look as he fusses with the collar of his jacket.

“You have class,” Bucky reminds him, and Steve just shrugs awkwardly.

“I’ll skip it,” he replies, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. According to the clock, he needs to leave for class within the next fifteen minutes. He hasn’t missed a class since the semester started, but he doubts he’d be able to pay much attention anyway. Bucky tilts his head to the side, brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean ‘skip it’? We’re just going to get coffee or something,” Bucky says. Steve just blows out a puff of air and stares at him, gaze determined. Bucky starts with realization and rolls his eyes. “Is this about what happened at the party?” Steve bites his lip, gaze lowering slightly. “Seriously? That was a week ago, Stevie.”

“I know,” Steve grits out, jealousy and possessiveness rushing through his blood like fire. “I just don’t want you alone with him.” Bucky stares at him for a moment, and then snorts. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Bucky tells him, gathering his cell phone and keys from the nightstand. “Just go to class, and I’ll see you in a little while.” 

“No,” Steve says, once Bucky turns towards the door. “You’re not going.” Bucky tenses, shoulders bunching before he slowly spins to face Steve. 

“Don’t ever try to tell me what I can and can’t do,” Bucky grits out, green eyes flashing dangerously. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

“Tony is in love with you!” Steve shouts, throwing his arms out to the side. “That’s my fucking problem.” Bucky blinks, obviously startled. 

“What the hell?” Bucky shouts, looking at Steve in disbelief. “You’re fucking paranoid. He’s just a friend.”

“A friend whose dick you sucked for over a year!” Steve counters, swallowing hard when Bucky’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“You better watch your fucking mouth,” Bucky says, voice deep and angry. “And stop being an asshole.”

“Do you miss it or something?” Steve says, chest heaving with each quick, angry breath he takes. He’s fuming, hands curled into fists. 

“What?” Bucky replies, lips curled back into a sneer. His cheeks are flushed red and he’s breathing just as hard as Steve. “What the fuck, Steve?”

“Just wondering,” Steve grits out, and he can already tell that this fight won’t be like the last. There won’t be a quick apology. This time he wants to hurt, and he doesn’t even know why. “I’m telling you that Tony wants you, which he basically fucking told me, so it ain’t me being paranoid, and all you can do is defend him. There must be something there. I mean, you fucked around with him for so long. You still want him, too?” 

“No!” Bucky shouts. “You’re my boyfriend. Although, at the moment I’m not exactly sure why. You’re acting like a dick and I didn’t even do anything!”

Bucky bites his lip, eyes going wide and glassy. It’s the first time he’s looked hurt since this whole thing started, and the angry red haze marring Steve’s vision clears a little. Bucky is breathing hard, skin bone white where it’s stretched over his knuckles. 

“You wanna know why I did all that shit with Tony?” Bucky asks, and no, he really doesn’t. Steve opens his mouth to speak but Bucky cuts him off when he swallows thickly and continues. “I was sixteen and I had just realized I was gay. Do you think it was easy for me to just go out and meet people? I barely had enough nerve to tell you, let alone my family and my friends. I wasn’t about to just go out and pick up random guys.”

“Bucky.” Steve notices the way he emphasized you, like Steve is not only family, not just a friend. Like he’s something more than both. 

“I wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed just like you did, like every fucking teenager does. So when Tony kissed me, I let him. Because he was safe.” Bucky’s voice cracks a little, but he doesn’t look away from Steve. “And then I – fuck – I started having feelings for you. My straight best friend. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?” 

There are tears in Bucky’s eyes now, and that’s when Steve realizes he has just made a huge fucking mistake. He’s still angry, but he’s not quite sure who it’s directed at anymore. 

“It’s like you were trying to set a fucking record, kiss every girl that would stand still long enough and then come tell me about it and I was just supposed to smile and nod, right? I was jealous and sad and angry, and I kept going back to Tony to feel something different.”

Steve opens his mouth again, his heart thundering against his ribcage. He doesn’t know what to say but he doesn’t want to hear anymore. 

“But I never let him fuck me,” Bucky says brokenly, tears rolling down his cheeks. “He asked, but I never let him. You know why? I wasn’t fucking in love with him! I loved you! You’re all I wanted, all I fucking thought about, and it fucking sucked. Tony was a weak substitution for something I never thought I would get, okay?”

“Still doesn’t change how he feels about you,” Steve says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. Bucky just laughs humorlessly, wiping his palm across his wet eyes. 

“How does what he feels have anything to do with us?” Bucky asks, biting his lip when it starts to tremble. Steve blinks a few times and shrugs helplessly.

“It just does.”

“You know what, Steve?” Bucky says, shaking out his shoulders. “Fuck you. Fuck you for acting like this. Fuck you for doubting how I feel about you for one goddamned second, you asshole.”

And suddenly, any remorse Steve was feeling vanishes. He’s practically vibrating with anger. He’s the one doubting things?

“No, fuck you!” Steve yells, taking a step forward and getting closer to Bucky. He brings one finger up to point, nearly jamming it into Bucky’s chest. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. I can’t even so much as look at a girl without you thinking I’m getting ready to leave you. You doubt me every single fucking day. I’m the one that has to deal with your insecure bullshit all the time, and when I bring up a legitimate fucking concern you jump down my throat?” 

“I’m not the one flirting with everything that fucking moves!” Bucky says, pushing Steve back by his shoulders. Steve stumbles and resists the urge to take a swing at him. 

“It’s not flirting, it’s called being friendly! Something you wouldn’t know anything about because you’re the most fucking unfriendly bastard on the planet!” Steve rages, tension simmering under his skin. “We can never fucking go anywhere, or do anything, because you hate everyone for no goddamn reason. And god forbid I ever actually talk to anyone that hasn’t gotten your fucking stamp of approval.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Steve,” Bucky says, and Steve curls his hands into fists. He’s seconds away from punching Bucky in the face and he’s never felt like that before. “If I’m such a horrible fucking person to be with then why are you still here? Why aren’t you off fucking some girl if that would make your life so fucking simple?” 

“I don’t know!” Steve screams, throwing his arms out to the side and knocking his desk chair over, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud clatter. “Maybe I fucking should be!” 

Bucky flinches visibly, recoiling like Steve actually did hit him. There are tears streaming down his face and he blinks rapidly, breath hitching like he’s trying not to sob. Steve takes a deep breath, forcing the air out through his nose. The sudden, lingering silence is nearly deafening. 

Their door flies open, nearly hitting Bucky in the process. Peter storms in, concerned. 

“What is going on?” Peter demands, stepping between them and pushing them apart. Steve hadn’t even realized how close they’d been, nearly seconds from tackling each other. “I could hear you guys in the goddamn lounge! What’s all the screaming about?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky says, voice cracked and rough. He runs his fingers through his hair and sniffs, wiping his eyes with the cuff of his jacket. “I was just leaving.” 

“Bucky,” Steve tries, but Bucky is already moving. He’s out the door before Steve can register what’s happening. The slam of the door makes him jump, and he’s surprised to feel two hot tears leak from his eyes and roll down his cheeks. “Fuck!”

He kicks the overturned chair and sweeps random objects off of the desk. Books, pens, and various papers fall to the floor as Steve paces. He’s so angry he doesn’t know how he can contain it. He feels like he’s going to burst at the seams. 

He doesn’t realize he’s actually sobbing until Peter pushes him down onto the bed by his shoulders and he can feel the sobs tearing from his lungs, loud noises that he’s never heard himself make before. Peter looks stricken, and Steve just buries his face in his hands, tears rapidly slicking his palms. 

He has no idea how things went so wrong so fast.

  
  



	21. Chapter 21

Bucky isn’t quite sure what the fuck just happened.

All he knows is that his chest hurts from trying to hold back his tears. He knows that they are leaking steadily from his eyes, but he wants to fucking sob. He hurries down the hallway and wipes his eyes as he makes his way down the stairs. He doesn’t even watch where he’s going, nearly tripping when he bumps into someone. 

“Whoa, Buck boy! Where’s the fire?” Wade reaches out to grab Bucky’s shoulders and he struggles, trying not to let Wade see his face. “Holy shit, Bucky. What happened?” 

“Let me go,” Bucky begs, and he sounds nearly hysterical. Wade cups his cheek, thumb surprisingly gentle under his eye. Bucky sucks in a deep breath, finally looking up at him. Wade gasps and glances down the hallway for a moment before looking back at him, eyes full of too much understanding and sympathy.

“Fuck, Bucky,” he says, and a sob finally breaks free. The noise echoes throughout the stairwell and Bucky rips himself out of Wade’s grasp, hurrying out of the dorm and into the bright sunshine. 

He blinks against the bright light, ignoring the startled looks he gets from passersby as he heads for the parking lot. He realizes after a quick check of his pockets that he left his keys up in the room. He stands in the parking lot for a moment, feeling lost as he tries to get his crying in check. He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, knowing he doesn’t want to make the walk across campus like this. His hand is shaking so bad he can barely hold down the speed dial button. 

“Hey baby!” At the sound of her voice, Bucky lets out another sob. “Oh my god. Bucky, what’s wrong?” 

“Can you come get me?” Bucky pleads, voice hitching between words. He feels so fucking pathetic. “I’m in front of the dorm, and I don’t have my keys, and – and I can’t go back up there, Natasha, please.”

“I’m already on my way to my car,” Natasha says, and thankfully she doesn’t ask anymore questions. Bucky knows that won’t last for long, but he’ll take what he can get. “I’ll be there in two minutes, baby. Just take deep breaths.” 

Bucky does, listening to her move on the other end of the line. He can hear the slam of a car door and the sudden burst of loud music before it shuts off. He focuses on the sound of her breathing, the roar of the car engine, instead of staring at the entrance to the dorm. 

She’s there within minutes, and as soon as he spots her car he ends the call. He stares at his phone for a moment before turning it off and slipping it in his pocket. Natasha goes to get out of the car and he shakes his head, instead climbing into the passenger seat. He doesn’t want to make anymore of a scene. 

“Oh, Bucky,” she says, leaning over to put her hand on his cheek. A sob escapes his lips and he reaches up to put his hand over hers. “You fought?” 

He just nods, turning in towards her. She wraps her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. Her arms are so small, so fragile. It feels so different than the embrace he is so used to. 

“Do you mind if we skip the party?” He sniffs miserably, tears leaking from his eyes as he buries his face in her hair. She swats at his back, pulling back to kiss his forehead. 

“I’m all yours tonight,” she says, cradling the back of his head. “My roommate went home for the weekend.” 

Bucky just nods and pulls back to sit properly and fasten his seatbelt. Natasha starts the car and makes the short drive back to her dorm in silence. They walk to her room hand in hand, the tips of her acrylic nails digging into his skin. A sort of numbness has washed over him for the moment, and he clings to it desperately. 

Once they’re in Natasha’s room, she shuts the door and locks it. She turns off her phone and tosses it on the desk before going to sit on the bed, patting the spot next to her. Bucky sits down and stares despondently at the wall. Natasha’s tiny hand comes up to rest between his shoulder blades.

“What happened?” She asks softly, tone conveying that she won’t be offended if Bucky doesn’t answer. He considers ignoring her, but the words spill out before he can stop them. 

“I don’t even know,” he starts, quick and breathless. “I said I was going out with Tony and he fucking lost it. Said Tony wanted me and accused me of having feelings for him, which is fucking insane. I never had feelings for Tony even when we were fooling around. I told him he was being an asshole and we just started screaming at each other like we never have before. I asked him why he was even with me and he said – he said he didn’t even know.”

“He didn’t mean that,” Natasha says instantly, rubbing his back in soothing circles. Bucky’s vision blurs with a fresh set of tears and he takes in a shuddering breath. 

“I don’t even know if we’re still together,” Bucky sobs, and Natasha pulls him into a hug. They end up lying on her tiny bed, his head pillowed on her chest as she rubs his back and presses kisses to the top of his head. “Everything was fine and then – and then it just wasn’t.”

He lets himself break then, clutching onto Natasha and sobbing into her soft pink tee shirt. He cries until he feels sick, until his pulse throbs behind his eyes in time with his rapid heartbeat. Natasha just holds him through it, doesn’t make him feel pathetic or weak. 

“It’ll be alright,” she promises, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Both of you just need to take a few hours and then you can go talk to him, okay?” 

He nods against her collarbone, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. They’re swollen and sore, and he squeezes them shut. 

He feels so stupid, crying like this over one fight. But Steve means so much to him that the tiniest little fissure in the foundation of their relationship feels like a bullet to the heart. No one else on the planet could get this sort of reaction out of Bucky, no one but Steve. 

He eventually exhausts himself, falling to sleep wrapped around Natasha’s tiny frame.

  
  



	22. Chapter 22

Steve is getting really fucking sick of Wade and Peter eyeing him like a ticking time bomb. He’s finally stopped crying and they both stopped trying to get him to talk. Now he’s just lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He’s well missed his class, and the sun is starting to set.

There are already sounds of the party starting up, people getting a head start on the night’s festivities. 

“I’m, uh, on duty tonight,” Peter says awkwardly, glancing over at Wade who bites his lip and shrugs helplessly. 

“Go,” Steve says, voice scratchy and rough. Peter looks relieved and disappears out the door. Wade shifts his weight, standing in the middle of the room. “You too.”

“But Steve – “

“Please,” Steve says, swallowing hard and not looking at him. Wade sighs, running his hand through his shaggy hair. 

“Just – don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Steve snorts and Wade heads for the door. “I’ll be around if you need me.” 

Steve lies there long after they leave, just focusing on breathing in and out until the sun dips completely below the horizon and leaves the room dark. The ache in his chest is overwhelming, and he rolls out of bed and flicks on the bedside lamp. 

He bites his lip and grabs his phone to call Bucky, not really surprised when it goes straight to voicemail. At the sound of Bucky’s chipper, recorded voice, his breath hitches again. 

You’ve reached Bucky. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you. If it’s really important, try Steve’s celI.

God, he fucked up. He ends the call and paces, chewing on the end of his thumbnail. He finally stops and opens his phone again, dialing another familiar number. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath as he listens to it ring, suddenly afraid. 

“Hey,” Tony answers, and Steve nearly loses his nerve and hangs up. 

“Uh, hey,” he starts, wincing when he realizes his voice is still shot to shit. “Is Bucky with you?” 

“No. We were supposed to meet up earlier but when I didn’t hear from him I figured he found better shit to do,” Tony replies, and Steve lets out a sigh of relief. “Why are you askin’ me, anyway? Thought you two never strayed too far from the other.”

“I’ll find him,” Steve grits out, scowling. He mumbles out a goodbye and closes the phone. Sam and Wanda were skipping the party to go have some sort of date night, so that pretty much leaves Natasha and Ben. And if Bucky hasn’t alerted Ben to the fact that they had a fight, then Steve sure as hell isn’t going to. 

Natasha’s phone also goes straight to voicemail, so Steve assumes that’s where Bucky is. He sighs and runs his hand through his hair again, listening to the ever-growing sounds of a party in full swing just outside his door. 

Sitting alone in the room is making him antsy so he heads out, edging around people as he makes his way towards the lounge. There is a card table laden with various bottles of booze, and Steve heads straight for it without a second thought. The loud music and mindless chatter of his fellow students is almost enough to distract him from his thoughts and he bypasses beer entirely, instead filling up a token red cup with rum and adding a splash of cola. 

A few hours pass in which Steve gets completely fucking hammered and awkwardly ends conversation with anyone who asks him where Bucky is, which is pretty much everyone. He’s miserable, the ache in his chest making it hard for him to even breathe. Wade and Peter check in on him occasionally, but they’re too busy making sure the party doesn’t get out of hand to pay him much attention. 

He’s sitting on one of the couches in the lounge, absently circling the rim of his cup with an unsteady finger and staring at the rain coating the window when someone lands hard on the couch next to him. His drink goes flying, and he looks over to see Sharon gasping as the ice-cold liquid soaks through her thin top. 

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Steve slurs, looking around as if a napkin or a towel will suddenly appear. She just laughs and stands up. Her legs are bare, hips barely covered by a tiny denim skirt, and Steve averts his eyes. 

“It’s okay,” she replies, reaching out to steady herself on Steve’s shoulder. She looks at him and bites her bottom lip. “It’s just that, um, I’m sort of locked out of my room. Maria is – well, it’s occupied. So could I maybe borrow a shirt or something?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies, getting up on shaky legs. “I am probably just gonna go crash anyway. Sorta had a rough day.”

“Aw, Steve,” she coos, walking with him towards their room. He misses the way she smirks slightly, eyes glinting. He also just barely misses Katie leaning against the wall and talking with a group of people, obviously not locked up in her room. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” he says, laughing bitterly. He fumbles drunkenly with his key for a moment before getting the door open, absently locking it behind him. The room is dark, dimly lit by only the desk lamp. The air mattress is propped up against the wall and he avoids looking at it as he makes his way to his closet. He tosses Jessica an old baggy shirt of his, and she smiles as she unabashedly pulls her shirt over her head. Steve clears his throat and turns his head to the side, stumbling a little as he makes his way over to his bed to sit down. 

She comes to stand in front of him, and Steve looks up at her. She’s swimming in the shirt, the hem hanging lower than that of her skirt. 

He loves it when Bucky wears his clothes, loves the way they aren’t too big on him. His eyes fill up with tears and he blinks rapidly. 

“I could make you feel better,” Sharon says, reaching up to cup his cheek as she moves closer to him. Steve grabs her wrist and gently pushes her back, but his head is swimming and he feels about two seconds from passing out.

“No you couldn’t,” Steve slurs miserably. He falls over sideways, barely managing to pull his feet up onto his bed. “I’ma sleep.” 

He doesn’t know whether she leaves or not before his eyes slip shut.

  
  



	23. Chapter 23

When Bucky wakes up, he feels like shit, both physically and emotionally. His eyes are swollen and burning, his head is throbbing and he has a sour taste in his mouth. Natasha turns away from her desk and presses a cold, wet cloth over his eyes. He sighs gratefully.

“Feeling better?” She asks uneasily, like she knows it’s a stupid question but she doesn’t know what else to say. Bucky doesn’t answer, just focuses on the cool pressure on his eyes and her fingers in his hair. 

“What do I do?” Bucky asks desperately, glad she can’t see his eyes. “I – I don’t want to lose him.”

“Oh, honey,” Natasha says, her fingers trailing across his cheek. “You got into a fight, just like every other couple in the world. The next step is making up.”

“But,” Bucky starts, and Natasha shushes him. She makes everything sound so simple, but Bucky is at a complete loss. He and Steve are great at living harmoniously, and absolutely terrible at fighting. 

“No buts,” she replies, pressing the cloth down more firmly against his eyes for a moment before pulling it away. He blinks rapidly against the sudden light, but both his eyes and his head feel marginally better. “You guys love each other so much. That isn’t going to end because of one fight.”

Bucky nods, rubbing at his eyes as he sits up. Natasha is smiling softly at him, and he pats her thigh and gives her a grateful smile. 

“I should go home,” Bucky says, biting his lip. “Talk to him.”

“I’ll drive you,” Natasha says, getting up off of the bed and grabbing her coat. “It’s late and it’s really coming down out there.” Bucky furrows his brow and looks over at the clock, eyes widening when he sees that it is after one in the morning. He just nods and gets up, stretching his arms over his head. 

He’s nervous as he walks through the quiet halls with Natasha. He’s still angry, still hurt, but his desire to be with Steve outweighs that. He needs to see him, touch him, and make sure they’re going to be okay. 

“Thanks,” Bucky says when she pulls up in front of the dorm. He takes off his seatbelt and turns towards her. “For everything.” 

“You’re welcome,” she says, pulling him into a hug. “Do you want me to come up?” 

“No, it’s okay,” Bucky replies, pulling away and taking a deep breath, psyching himself up. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

She nods and wishes him luck as he gets out of the car, jogging to hurry out of the rain. The walk up to his floor seems to take hours, and he feels exhausted even though he just slept for nearly seven hours. The party is still going, low music ghosting down the halls. Most everyone seems to have retreated into rooms or the lounge, because there aren’t many people left in the hall. 

He walks up to their door and closes his eyes for a moment, hands curling into fists before he lets out a deep breath and grips the handle. The door is locked, and he pats his pockets before remembering that he left his keys inside. He rolls his eyes, feeling like an idiot as he brings his hand up to knock. 

“Hey, I –“ He cuts himself off when Sharon appears at the door. He blinks and shakes his head in confusion. She is probably the very last person he wants to see right now, yet here she is, answering the door to his room at two in the morning. He even takes a step back and looks at the room number, just in case.

“Oh, Bucky. Hey,” she says, biting her lip. That’s when Bucky notices she is wearing one of Steve’s tee shirts, and what appears to be nothing else. Dread forms in the pit of his stomach and he rolls his lips into his mouth. “Steve is, uh, sleeping.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just pushes roughly past her and into the room. The lights are off and Steve is passed out on his stomach, covers up to his neck. Bucky surveys the room quickly. The desk is empty, all the contents scattered on the floor and Jessica’s shirt is in a pile next to her shoes. 

Bucky feels sick, consumed with pain, and anger, and the overwhelming feeling that everything he lived for just ceased to be. He leans over to search for his keys in the mess of papers and books on the floor. His hands are shaking so badly that when he finally finds them and picks them up the key chains clink together. 

Steve wakes up then, letting out a snuffling noise as he rolls out of bed. Bucky whirls on him, and he wants to throw up at the sight of him. He looks sleepy and gorgeous, and up until five minutes ago Bucky wouldn’t have thought him so thoroughly capable of breaking his heart. 

“Bucky!” Steve says, and surges forward to grab his arms. At that touch, the same one that he was craving so badly just moments ago, he loses it. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He shouts, pushing Steve back with all his might. Steve trips over his shoes and lands awkwardly on the bed, looking up at Bucky in confusion. Bucky blinks against the swell of tears in his eyes, swallowing against the lump of anger in his throat. He holds his trembling hands in front of him, shaking his head. “We’re done.” 

He turns to see Sharon still standing there, and the look he gives her is one of pure hatred. “Get the fuck out of my way,” he snarls, and she steps aside as he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

He hurries down the stairs and out of the dorm, much like earlier. But this time, he doesn’t call Natasha. He gets into his car and knows there is only one place he can go, one person that can hold him together when he’s so close to falling apart. 

He turns the key in the ignition and his tires squeal as he flies out of the parking lot.

He needs his brother.

  
  



	24. Chapter 24

Steve stares at the closed door for almost a full minute, blinking rapidly. He’s still stupidly drunk, and his wrist hurts from where he landed on it after Bucky pushed him.

He looks from the door to see Sharon, hair rumpled and lipstick smeared, wearing his tee shirt that hangs lower than her skirt, so it looks like she’s wearing nothing else at all. The desk is cleared off and the pillows from his bed are lying on the floor.

He feels sick when he finally gets it. Bucky thinks he slept with her. He looks up at her, eyes blazing. At that moment, rage feels marginally better than the pain threatening to overwhelm him.

“What the fuck are you still doing in here?” Steve asks angrily, getting up and stuffing his feet into his shoes. “Why did you let Bucky think we did anything?”

“I – I don’t know!” She stammers, eyes widening as he approaches her. “I like you so much, Steve, and –“

“You like me? And what, you thought if you got rid of my boyfriend, the person I need like the fucking air I breathe, that I would just fall into your waiting arms?” Sharon’s mouth opens and closes and she backs up against the wall. Tears sting Steve’s eyes and he doesn’t know what to do with all the hurt. “You – you just cost me everything.”

“I’m sorry,” she tries, eyes welling up with tears. Steve just grabs her by the elbow and leads her out of the room. He barely spares the time to shut the door before he’s running downstairs. He bursts out of the dorm and runs out into the pouring rain. It soaks him to the skin and he lets out a violent shiver, dressed only in jeans and a tee shirt. 

A quick scan of the parking lot tells him that Bucky’s car is gone, and he is way too drunk to even consider driving himself anywhere. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials a number, uncaring of the rain. 

“Steve?” Natasha asks, obviously confused, and Steve can barely hear her over the pounding rain. “What’s going on?”

“Is Bucky with you?” Steve asks desperately, even though it’s clear by her tone that he isn’t. She’d be screaming at him if she knew what Bucky thought.

“No. I just dropped him off like ten minutes ago. He was going to try and make up with you,” she replies, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. Hot tears mix with freezing rain, and he shuts the phone and puts it back in his pocket. There is only one other place he can think of, and he takes off into a brisk run.

  
  



	25. Chapter 25

Bucky parks his car in the first parking space he sees and gets out, gasping slightly as he’s hit with icy rain. He jogs up to the front door of the apartment building and lets himself in. The lobby is silent and bright, and all Bucky can hear is the harsh sound of his own breathing as he waits for the elevator.

By the time he reaches Ben and Garrett’s door, tears are streaming down his face and his breath is coming in hitching little sobs. He pounds on the door, belatedly realizing that it’s the middle of a Friday night and Ben might not even be home. 

Thankfully, the door opens but it's Garrett he sees. Bucky just looks up and lets Garrett see his broken expression because he doesn’t know what else to do. 

“Ben!” Garrett calls instantly, and reaches out to pull Bucky into the apartment.

“What?” Ben replies absently as he comes out of his bedroom, looking sleepy. But he’s instantly alert when he sees Bucky, green eyes widening as he rushes over. “Holy shit, Buck. What happened?”

“Steve – “ He starts, and he’s trying so hard not to cry that he can barely get the words out. He can hardly believe his own ears when he finally does. “We – we broke up.”

“What?” Ben and Garrett shout in unison, and Ben runs forward to pull Bucky into a hug. Bucky clings desperately to his big brother, unashamed by the way he’s crying into his neck. Ben has been there for everything – every skinned knee, every little league tryout, every time he worked himself up over coming out to his family, every time he got upset by his feelings for Steve – Ben was there. 

“What happened?” Ben asks, uncaring of the rainwater seeping onto his clothes from Bucky’s. “Bucky, tell me.”

“We fought earlier,” Bucky says, and he spots Garrett’s expression – concerned, like he’s wondering how his own brother is doing. He even glances towards the phone and bites his lip, fingers twitching like he isn’t sure what to do. “He slept with her – she was in our room – and I, I told him – it’s over.”

“Bucky, calm down,” Ben says, pulling out of the hug to grip Bucky by the shoulders and look him in the eye. “You aren’t making any sense.”

“He slept with Sharon!” Bucky shouts, taking in huge gulps of air, chest aching. Ben’s expression hardens dangerously, but Garrett shakes his head in disbelief.

“Steve wouldn’t do that,” Garrett says adamantly, and Bucky just laughs bitterly. He doesn’t want to think it’s possible either, but deep down he’s been afraid of this since day one. 

“She was in our room in the middle of the night, in his clothes!” Bucky cries, and Ben leads him over to the sofa, exchanging a dark look with Garrett. 

Bucky sobs into his hands, and Ben’s grip is firm on his shoulder. He’s never felt such pain in his life. It feels like something is ripping his body apart – like something is tearing out his heart.

  
  



	26. Chapter 26

Steve trails water down the hall, rubber soles slipping in his own puddles as he runs down the narrow hallway. He’s amazingly sober now, and his breath hitches as he tries to breathe normally.

It’s not working.

He nearly skids past Ben and Garrett’s door, hand curling into a fist and pounding hard just above the slightly crooked three. There is silence. But he knows Bucky is here. His car is in the parking lot.

He pounds again, blinking away hot tears and icy rain. His hair and clothes are plastered to his body and he’s shivering violently. His legs ache from running here and he’s three seconds from bursting into tears. 

Suddenly, the door opens. Steve lifts his head, eyes widening as he is grabbed by the shoulders and slammed painfully against the wall opposite the door. All the air is sucked from his lungs and he takes a gasping breath. Ben is in his face, fists curled in the front of his sopping wet tee shirt. He’s never seen Ben look this angry, not once in his entire life. He swallows, suddenly afraid.

“What the hell did I tell you, Steve?” Ben yells, pulling Steve forward only to slam him back again. Steve’s skull connects painfully with the wall and he blinks the stars from his eyes. “What did I fucking tell you when this started, huh?”

Steve remembers that conversation with stunning clarity. Ben’s tone was light but his eyes were serious, and Steve was so fucking confident when Ben told him not to fuck this up.

“I told you not to do this if you weren’t completely fucking serious about him,” Ben yells, and Steve’s shoes slip in the puddle he’s creating. Ben is pretty much the only thing holding him up at this point. “I told you not to fucking hurt him.”

“Ben!” He can hear Garrett’s voice but Steve’s eyes are locked on Ben’s, tears blurring his vision as he tries to find the words to say. Ben’s fist connects with his eye, sudden and solid, and Steve struggles, cowering in his grip. “Damn it, Ben! Let him the fuck go.”

Ben is pulled off of him and Steve slips to the floor. He can feel blood seeping down his temple; courtesy of the ring Ben always wears. Ben struggles against Garrett’s grip for a moment before he slumps in defeat, sending one last hateful glare Steve’s way before storming inside.

“What the fuck, Steve?” Garrett asks, tone angry even as he extends a hand to help Steve up. “Shit, your eye’s bleeding.” 

“I need to talk to him,” Steve pleads, voice rough and broken. “It wasn’t what it looked like, I fucking swear.”

“To Buck it looked like you fucked some girl in the room you two share,” Garrett replies, looking torn and confused, warring between alliances. He has no idea who is right and who is wrong, and there is anguish in his eyes when he looks at his little brother. 

“I need to fucking talk to him!” Steve yells, trying to push past Garrett and into the apartment. Garrett holds him back and Steve cries out in frustration, pushing against his big brother as tears stream down his cheeks. 

“No, Bucky, fuck him!” He can hear Ben saying, and Steve lifts his head. 

“Move,” Bucky says, soft and low. Garrett sighs and moves out of the way. He and Ben back up a bit, trying not to impose but not wanting to stray too far.

“Buck,” Steve starts. Bucky is soaking wet and shaking, his eyes swollen and red. His hair is plastered to his face and his skin is pale, blue eyes standing out in stark relief. He looks completely fucking devastated, betrayed. His bottom lip is trembling and a fresh set of tears spill out of his eyes. 

Steve hates himself, hates himself fully and completely and so fucking much it hurts almost as much as the way Bucky is looking at him.

“It’s over,” Bucky finally says, sounding wrecked and sucking in a shuddering breath. “Just – just go away and leave me alone.”

And then the door shuts, and Steve is all alone in the hall. 

Completely alone. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, pounding on the brown door separating him from Bucky. After awhile he gives up, walking down the stairs and shaking his head like he isn’t sure what just happened – like he doesn’t quite believe it.

He manages to call Sam for a ride, sitting out on a curb in the rain while he waits. He suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder, warmth seeping into his skin. He doesn’t even need to look to know it’s not the person he wants to see. He would know Bucky’s touch anywhere.

“Get out of the rain, kid,” Garrett says, but Steve just sits there. Garrett heaves a sigh and sits down next to him, shivering from the cold. Steve just stares blankly ahead, blinking against the rain. He winces slightly when Garrett touches the cut next to his eye. The whole area is tender, but that pain is unimportant. Garrett presses a warm, wet rag to his eye and Steve sniffles. 

“Do you need a ride?” Garrett asks, lifting Steve’s hand so he can hold the rag himself. He pulls it away to look at it, momentarily surprised by the amount of blood on it. He shakes his head and pushes the towel back to his face. 

“Called Sam,” Steve rasps. He finally turns to look at Garrett, taking in his concerned expression. The rain is relentless, and Garrett is already soaked to the bone. “I didn’t do it.”

“Doesn’t sound like you,” Garrett says, pulling Steve into a one-armed hug. Sam pulls up then, his shitty car idling at the curb. “Sam’s here. Just go get some sleep, and I’ll be there in the morning, okay?” 

Steve nods, getting to his feet and stumbling a little as he reaches the car door. He slides into the passenger seat, and Sam’s eyes widen at the sight of him. Garrett leans in to look at Sam. 

“You stay with him, okay?” Garrett says, and Sam just nods dumbly.

“What the fuck, dude?” Sam asks once Garrett turns to head inside. “What’s going on?” 

Steve’s face is completely blank for one long second, and then Sam puts his hand on Steve’s back and he breaks down, pain ripping through his chest as he lets out a sob. He leans forward and rests his forehead against the dashboard and he doesn’t even care what he looks like, crying like this. He shakes with the force of it, cries so hard he can’t even breathe. 

“I – I think it’s over,” he gets out between gasping breaths. “It’s over.”

At Sam’s sudden and sharp intake of breath, Steve just cries harder.

  
  



	27. Chapter 27

It’s still raining when Steve wakes up, and it’s slightly fitting.

He just lies there, listening to the unrelenting patter of the heavy rain on his window. His whole body aches and he’s exhausted to the core. His eye is swollen, that much is obvious when he tries to blink. He hears a soft snore and turns to see Sam asleep on Bucky’s bed. 

Steve stares back up at the ceiling. So it wasn’t just a terrible dream. 

There’s a sudden knock at the door, and Steve sits up so fast his head spins. Rationally, he knows it isn’t Bucky, but he still can’t help but feel disappointed when he opens the door to find Garrett on the other side. 

He’s barely aware of his brain telling him to move before he’s hugging Garrett, resting his chin on Garrett’s shoulder. They’re nowhere near as touchy-feely as Bucky and Ben and he stopped seeking physical comfort from his big brother around the time he hit puberty, but he has no problem with taking it now. Garrett just pats his back before pulling away, leading them into the room. 

“You look terrible,” is the first thing that Garrett says, pushing Steve back by the shoulders to look at him. Steve almost wants to laugh. He’d bet money on the fact that he looks amazing compared to how he feels. “Go take a shower.”

“Garrett, I – “ Steve tries, and his voice is little more than a squeak. His throat is sore from the amount of yelling and crying he did yesterday. He actually doesn’t think he’s ever cried so much in his entire life. 

“Go,” Garrett commands, setting a McDonald’s bag down before digging through his dresser and throwing some clothes at him. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Steve sighs and grabs a towel. It’s really no use arguing. As much as he’d like to just crawl into bed and suffocate himself with his own pillow, he knows Garrett won’t let him. Stupid big brother instincts kicking in.

He feels a tiny bit better after the shower, and after getting dressed he steps up to the mirror to examine his eye. The cut is red and tender looking, already starting to scab over. His eye is bruised and swollen, and it hurts when he blinks. He doesn’t really blame Ben. It’s far less than he would have deserved, had he actually done what Bucky apparently accused him of. 

And that’s the part that hurts almost more than anything – that Bucky would believe him capable of something like that. While it’s true that the evidence definitely was stacked against him, he hoped that Bucky would have trusted him enough to at least hear him out. 

When he gets back into the room, Sam is sitting up on Bucky’s bed eating an Egg McMuffin. He’s got pillow lines on his face and he looks at Steve with concern. Steve drops his towel and accepts the bag Garrett holds out to him. He doesn’t really feel like eating, but he hasn’t done so since lunchtime yesterday and his stomach is sort of demanding it. 

“So, tell me what happened,” Garrett says once Steve sits on his bed and takes a bite of his sandwich. The bite seems extremely difficult to swallow all of a sudden.

“Bucky thinks I cheated on him,” Steve says, and wow, that’s hard to say. Garrett just nods and Sam watches him wearily as he picks at his own breakfast. 

“Why?” Garrett responds, leaning forward in the desk chair to rest his elbows on his knees. Steve takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring the stinging pull of the cut in his eyebrow when he does so. 

“We got in this stupid fight yesterday,” he starts, voice trembling slightly. “He left and I went to the floor party and got drunk, because it seemed like a good idea at the time. I should have gone and found him. I should’ve –” 

“Steve, “Garrett interrupts gently, and Steve sighs. The sandwich in his hand is completely unappealing, but he forces himself to take another bite.

“I spilled my drink on Sharon and she said she was locked out of her room so I gave her a shirt. Then I said I was going to bed and she found it appropriate to just fucking hang out in here I guess, and that’s apparently when Bucky came back. I didn’t do anything with her,” Steve says desperately, looking up at Garrett’s sympathetic expression. “I wouldn’t.” 

“I know,” Garrett says, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. “So should he.” 

“But he doesn’t,” Steve sighs, cheeks heating up. He refuses to cry again, but the pain in his chest makes it hard to breathe.

“Bucky has issues,” Garrett says, not unkindly. “And I get it, I do. You go so long thinking you’ll never have something, that when you finally get it you can’t believe it’s real.” 

“When we were fighting, he asked me why I didn’t just go find some girl,” Steve says miserably. “And I told him that I didn’t know. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“People say fucked up shit in the heat of battle,” Garrett says flippantly. “Doesn’t mean that’s how they really feel.” 

“Is he okay?” Steve asks, leaning forward. “I mean, how is he doing?” 

“Not gonna lie,” Garrett says, huffing out a sigh. “He’s pretty broken up. Ben called in reinforcements.” He turns the chair slightly to look at Sam. “Don’t think you’ll be seein’ your girl for awhile.” Sam just shrugs one shoulder and swallows the last of his sandwich. 

“Didn’t bank on it,” he replies. “I planned on staying here, at least for the weekend.” 

Steve wonders what Natasha and Wanda are thinking, if they hate him. He’s startled out of his thoughts by the alarm on his phone going off. He groans and runs his hand over his face. 

“Fuck. I have a shift at Ed’s in an hour,” Steve sighs, rubbing his temples. “I am so not up for it.”

“Dude, it’s Ed,” Garrett says, balling up his breakfast wrapper and shoving it in the bag. “Just call him.” Steve grabs his phone and dials the number for the coffee shop. Ed answers and Steve considers telling him he’s sick, but instead he just blurts the truth. 

“Hey Ed, its Steve. Look, um, me and Bucky broke up last night.” His voice cracks a bit at the end, and he squeezes his eyes shut. He still can’t believe it. 

“Shit, dude,” Ed says, clicking his tongue. “Listen, don’t worry about comin’ in, okay? We’re good for the weekend.”

“Thanks,” Steve croaks, hanging up the phone and letting it drop to the floor. He falls back on his bed and blinks away the sudden moisture in his eyes. Everything hurts, like his heart can’t shoulder all of the burden by itself. His insides feel like they’ve been scraped out – his entire body is one hollow ache. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Steve,” Garrett starts, but Steve just rolls to face the wall, sniffling slightly. 

“Just go, okay?” Garrett huffs a sigh, but Steve doesn’t hear him leave. Steve just squeezes his eyes shut, taking steady breaths until he falls asleep.

  
  



	28. Chapter 28

Bucky sort of wishes everyone would fuck off and leave him alone, but at the same time he is grateful for their presence. He’s stretched out lengthwise on Ben and Garrett’s couch, his head pillowed in Natasha’s lap and his feet draped across Wanda’s thighs.

Ben is sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa, flipping mindlessly through the channels. Bucky is just sort of staring ahead, concentrating on the feeling of Natasha’s fingers in his hair instead of the gaping hole in his chest. 

The front door opens and Bucky’s eyes flick towards it instinctually. Garrett walks up to them and Bucky can’t help but notice the slight accusation in his eyes when Garrett looks at him. Bucky just blinks, turning his eyes back to the television.

“We need to talk,” Garrett says, and it’s directed at Ben. “Now.”

“Look, I’m sorry I punched your brother,” Ben says, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. Bucky winces. Even now, he hates to think of Steve in pain. “But Bucky was crying. I don’t respond well to that.”

“Will you get the fuck in the kitchen?” Garrett says, and Ben huffs a sigh as he climbs to his feet. They disappear into the kitchen and Bucky shifts his weight, tucking one arm under Natasha’s thigh. 

“He punched Steve?” Natasha asks tightly, and Bucky sighs. 

“Last night,” Bucky says, voice low and rasping. He blinks against the sudden image in his eyes – Steve out in the hallway, wet and bleeding, begging to be able to talk to him. Another tear leaks from the corner of his eye and he doesn’t bother wiping it away. He figures that at the rate he’s going, he’ll dry up soon enough. 

“Maybe you should talk to him,” Natasha says again, and Bucky tenses. “I mean, there has to be some sort of explanation. I just don’t see Steve – “

“Stop,” Bucky says weakly, cutting her off. “Please stop. You weren’t there, okay?”

“Okay,” Natasha replies, and there is a pause where Bucky just knows she and Wanda are sharing a look. “Okay, Bucky.” 

Bucky rolls over, buries his face in Natasha’s stomach, and falls back to sleep.

  
  



	29. Chapter 29

There is a knock on the door, followed immediately by Wade walking in without permission. Sam left earlier, claiming he needed a shower and a fresh set of clothes, but Steve figures he just wanted some time away from him. He’s not the best company right now, after all.

Wade sets something down on the desk and crawls into bed with Steve, pushing until Steve scoots over to make room. Steve just sighs and continues to stare at the ceiling. Wade takes his hand, twining their fingers together and Steve bites his lip. He simultaneously hates and craves all physical contact – hates it because every little touch reminds him of Bucky, needs it because it makes him feel better. 

“Garrett called me,” Wade says in way of a greeting. “Told me I was in charge of making sure you eat three times a day and that you don’t throw yourself off of the roof.”

“I’m not going to throw myself off the roof,” Steve says quietly, but he squeezes Wade’s hand all the same. 

“Not sure if you wanna hear this or not,” Wade starts, and Steve immediately tenses. “But word is there was a lot of screaming coming from across the hall this morning. Seems someone informed Maria of what happened and she was none too pleased with her roommate.”

“How the fuck does everyone already know?” Steve says, ignoring the mention of Jessica. Thinking about her makes his blood boil. He feels Wade shrug next to him. 

“You guys are the golden couple,” Wade says simply, and Steve’s heart clenches in his chest. 

“Were,” he croaks, and Wade jostles his shoulder. 

“Are,” he counters. “This is just a bump in the road. You’ll see. I’ve seen plenty couples in my time here, and none of them have been as epic as you and Bucky.”

“I know you think you’re helping,” Steve says, swallowing the lump in his throat. “But you really, really aren’t.”

“Sorry,” Wade says, squeezing his hand again. “It’s just – don’t give up so fast, okay?”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just steadfastly avoids looking at the collage on the wall. He sort of wants to get up and rip it down. Too many happy memories. 

There is a knock on the door and Steve sighs. He sort of wishes everyone would just let him wallow in peace. Wade rolls off of the bed to answer it. Ben is on the other side of the door, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Wade steps aside to let him in. 

“Come to kick my ass some more?” Steve asks blandly, staring up at the ceiling. “Because I gotta say, you did a pretty bang up job last night.”

“I’ll just…give you two a moment,” Wade says awkwardly, fidgeting slightly before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Ben pulls the desk chair up to the bed and sits in it, pulling something out of his pocket. He leans over Steve and Steve tenses automatically, but Ben just sets an ice pack on his eye. Steve brings his hand up to hold it to his face, turning to eye Ben dubiously. 

“You made my brother cry,” Ben says, and Steve blinks rapidly. “I sort of fly off of the handle when it’s Bucky at stake.” 

Steve just nods. He’s well aware of this. He’s seen Ben’s overprotective streak in play on numerous occasions. It’s just never been directed at him.

“But it’s been brought to my attention that I should have maybe gotten your side of the story,” Ben says. “So that’s why I’m here. Tell me.” 

Steve bites his lip. He really doesn’t want to go through this again, but the look on Ben’s face tells him he’s not leaving until Steve talks. So Steve just stares up at the ceiling, tells him everything that he already told Sam and Garrett. 

“I wouldn’t do that to Bucky,” he says when he’s done, finally turning to Ben and blinking a stray tear away. “I swear.” 

“God, you two are fucking pathetic,” Ben says, and Steve blinks rapidly. “I believe you.” 

“You do?” Steve says hopefully, sitting up and holding the ice pack in his lap. Ben winces when he sees Steve’s black eye, flashing him a guilty little look. 

“Yeah, man,” Ben replies, chewing on his bottom lip. “It’s just, Bucky has – “

“ – issues, yeah,” Steve finishes, letting out a rough sigh. Ben looks over at him, lips quirking up at the corner. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Ben promises. “Just…give him some time.” 

“I miss him already,” Steve admits, looking down at the ice pack in his lap. “I don’t want to lose him.” 

“Dude,” Ben says, sounding pained. But that doesn’t stop him from pulling Steve into a quick, awkward hug. “Chin up, man. And keep the ice on that.” 

Steve knows that’s about as much of an apology as he’s going to get. He lifts the icepack in salute and presses it gingerly to his eye. 

“I’ve got to get back,” Ben says. “My apartment is now hot chick central.” 

“I’m glad they’re there for him,” Steve says, lying back down on his bed. Ben gives him a sympathetic look. 

“You’re not the enemy, Steve,” he says. “They’re gonna come talk to you, too. No one thinks you’re capable of being such an asshole.”

“Except Bucky,” Steve says brokenly, shifting the icepack so it’s resting over both eyes.

“Bucky has enough baggage to fill a cargo hold,” Ben replies, reaching out to pat Steve’s foot. “It’ll work out, man. I’m sure of it.” 

Ben lets himself out then, and Steve just lies there until the icepack gets too cold on his bruised skin. He drops it onto the floor and blinks experimentally. His eye feels less swollen, and Steve gets under the covers, letting his eyes drift to the collage on the wall against his better judgment.

  
  



	30. Chapter 30

Bucky doesn’t really leave the couch all weekend, not even to shower. The girls bring him comfort food, hardly leaving his side. Except for when they do. Except for when they go to visit Steve. They come back and he swears he can smell Steve’s cologne on them. They all try to convince him of Steve’s innocence, but he just tunes them out.

It’s Monday, and everyone is out at their various classes. Bucky sleeps until one and watches mindless television throughout the entire afternoon. Ben comes home around four, just popping in to change before work, and he lets out an exasperated sigh when he spots Bucky.

“No, Bucky,” he says sternly. “You’re not going to fucking do this.”

“Do what?” Bucky says, voice rough from acting like a mute all weekend. Ben just puts one hand on his hip and waves the other around in the air.

“You’re not going to be some fucking teenage heartbroken cliché that mopes around and sleeps through class and just lies around listening to your sad ass Matt Nathanson playlist on your iPod, alright?”

“’M not a cliché,” Bucky mumbles, reaching over to feel around in the mess on the floor, coming up with a crumpled bag of cookies. Something cuts into his hip and he extracts his mp3 player, shooting Ben a guilty little look.

“That much is obvious,” Ben says, rolling his eyes. Bucky glares at him, bottom lip jutting out. “Oh, can it. That shit stopped working when you turned six. I want you up off of the couch. I want you to shower. And you better not miss another fucking class.”

“Anything else I can do for you?” Bucky asks sarcastically, and Ben’s irritated expression smoothes out.

“Yes,” he replies slowly, leaning over the back of the couch to look him in the eye. “I want you to go talk to Steve.” 

“That I can’t do,” Bucky says, tossing the cookies on the floor. Ben sighs and looks at him pleadingly. 

“Bucky – “ Ben tries, but Bucky just rolls off of the couch and stalks towards the bathroom. 

“Mind your own fucking business,” Bucky snaps. He turns on the shower and avoids his reflection in the mirror.

“You are my fucking business, you little shit!” 

The only answer he gives Ben is the slam of the bathroom door.

  
  



	31. Chapter 31

The sun is blindingly bright against the endless white sand. Steve blinks against it, lifting a hand to shade his eyes. It doesn’t work. The sun continues to hit his eyes like his hand provides no barrier at all – like he’s invisible. He whips around and comes face to face with himself – all of four feet tall with a slight smattering of mocha colored freckles across his sharp little nose and gaps in his teeth. 

This is how Steve knows he’s dreaming.

The seven year old version of himself tears off across the sand, heading straight for him. He braces himself for impact but he bursts right through. Steve looks down at himself. He is invisible. 

He turns and watches the young version of himself dive-bomb a tan lump in the sand and Steve’s throat constricts. Bucky. 

He watches the young version of Bucky squeal and tackle Steve into the sand, their parents laughing from their beach chairs. Bucky is still startlingly beautiful, sand clumping in his brunette hair. They chase each other into the water and Steve realizes that this isn’t just a dream – it’s a memory. 

Hawaii, 1998. 

Steve blinks and suddenly he’s in the water, his own body still invisible to him. His younger self laughs, innocent and so carefree. Bucky’s face is covered in freckles from the unrelenting summer sun. 

Bucky tackles Steve down into the water and Steve lets out a booming laugh. He knows what is supposed to happen next. Their mothers call them out of the water and they go back to the hotel. They change and go to a luau, and everyone laughs as Steve and Bucky get up to do the hula with all the pretty dancers.

It didn’t go like this. 

“Bucky!” He hears, startling a little at the sound of his own high-pitched, childish voice. “Where’d you go?”

Steve looks into his own panicked eyes, watches as his own tiny hands push through the water as if he’s trying to move it out of the way. Steve’s heart speeds up, and he looks around. He spots a shock of brown hair in the distance, a hand flying up out the water for only a moment before it disappears under the surface. 

“NO!” The little boy version of himself shrieks. Steve blinks and suddenly he is that little boy. His heart is pumping and the water is like ice against his skin. “No!” He’s screaming, throat raw with salt and overuse. “Bucky! Come back! No, Bucky, no! Don’t leave me!”

He sees nothing but the vast expanse of ocean, suddenly menacing under the crystal blue sky. 

He throws himself under the water, and everything goes black.

Steve sits up in bed, panting like he’s just run a marathon. He gasps when he tastes salt on his lips and then realizes that he’s crying. Terror is making his entire body shake, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the intense realism of the dream. 

The need to hear Bucky’s voice is overpowering – like he won’t be able to breathe properly until he knows Bucky is safe. 

His phone is on the nightstand, and he grabs it without thinking. Holds down the speed dial button and listens to it ring, gnawing on his bottom lip. There’s a click when Bucky answers, and holy shit, he answered. He hears Bucky snuffling, and he can picture Bucky answering blindly, trying to navigate the phone to his face without opening his eyes. 

“Yeah?” Bucky says, voice rough with sleep. Steve glances at the clock. It’s after two in the morning, but the slight guilt he feels about waking Bucky up doesn’t compare to the relief he feels at hearing his voice, no matter how sleepy and confused it is. 

“Buck, it’s me,” he starts, surprised at how badly his voice shakes. He hears Bucky’s sharp intake of breath and then some shuffling, like he’s trying to sit up.

“Steve?” He asks, sounding weary and concerned at the same time. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I had a really fucked up dream. It really scared me and I just wanted to make sure – I needed to know you were okay.” He wipes his arm across his face, sniffling and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Bucky is silent for a long time, and Steve listens to the sound of his breathing. It’s harsh and erratic, like he’s getting upset.

“I’m – I’ve been better, Steve,” he finally says, voice rough as broken glass. “But I’m okay.” 

“God, Bucky. I miss you,” Steve says without thinking, his breath catching in his throat. “So much, Buck. Please come home.”

“Steve,” Bucky pleads, his voice thick and quiet. “Don’t do this, please.” 

“Buck.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and puts one hand over his mouth. He’s aware of how pathetic he sounds, and he snaps his phone shut just as Bucky starts to speak. 

He lies back down and doesn’t cry, but it’s a near thing.

  
  



	32. Chapter 32

Steve tries his best to ignore the persistent pounding on his door on Tuesday morning. He didn’t leave his room all weekend, or Monday for that matter, and would have starved if it weren’t for Wade bringing him food.

“I will break it down, Steve! I swear to God.” Sam calls out, pounding on the door again. Steve groans and gets out of bed, opening the door and blinking blearily at the light that pours in from the hall. 

“What?” Steve demands, turning around and heading back for his bed. Sam catches him by the elbow and prevents him from getting back into his warm little cocoon of sorrow. The dream he had last night suddenly comes back to him, and he groans as he remembers talking to Bucky, embarrassing himself so completely. 

“Oh no,” Sam says, dragging Steve over to his closet. “You need to get up before you lose muscle mass. Besides, we have class.” 

“No, you have class,” Steve retorts. There is no way he wants to go to the class he and Bucky share. He can only imagine Bucky’s reaction after his late night phone call. 

“Steve, you have to stop this,” Sam says, sounding serious enough that Steve turns to look at him. “I’m fuckin’ worried about you, okay? You can’t – you can’t do this to yourself.” 

“It’s my life, Sam, alright?” Steve says, and Sam just sighs. 

“Look, dude. You’re my best friend,” he replies, and then holds up a hand. “I know I’m not yours, but you’re mine. And it’s fucking killing me to see you like this. You’ve gotta move on.”

Steve knows he’s nowhere near ready to move on, but Sam does have a point. 

“If I go to class, will you get off my fucking back?” Steve asks, sighing. Sam nods eagerly, and then wrinkles his nose. 

“You’re kinda rank, though,” he says. Steve just rolls his eyes and changes into jeans and a tee shirt. He pulls an old sweatshirt over his head and runs a brush through his bed head. 

“It ain’t getting much better than this,” Steve informs him. Sam just shrugs and hands him his book. 

“I can deal with you looking like a janky ass hobo as long as you get the fuck out of this room,” Sam tells him, and leads him out of the door. 

The walk across campus is sort of surreal. Steve doesn’t know what he expected, but he feels like things should at least seem different. It’s sort of humbling to see that something that altered his entire life doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. 

Life goes on. But that doesn’t mean he is ready for it to – not without Bucky, at least. 

They walk into the lecture hall and take their usual seats in the front row near the door – for a quick escape, Bucky had joked. They’re actually early, which Sam explains is due to the fact that he figured he would have to use bodily force to get Steve out of bed.

Steve is incredibly fidgety, tapping his toes and scratching at his stubble. He winces at the scrape of it against his palm. He probably does look like a janky ass hobo. The door opens to his right, and his breath catches in his throat. 

Bucky is frozen in the doorway, dressed in sweats and a hoodie. His hair is flat and unwashed, he has bags under his eyes, and his chin is coated with golden stubble, but he’s still so fucking gorgeous. Bucky blinks a few times and ducks his head, walking by Steve without a word – without so much as a sideways glance. Steve feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. 

He starts to turn his head to sneak another glance at Bucky, but Sam pinches his thigh and he looks forward again. He bows his head and doesn’t even pretend to listen when the professor starts to speak.

Bucky drops down into a seat a few rows back and to the left of Steve and Sam, promptly leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk and bury his face in his hands. Steve’s pleading voice from their stilted conversation last night rings in his ears, makes him feel hollowed out and achy.

This was a horrible idea. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to face Steve, and yet he decided to come to the one class they share. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head. From his vantage point, he can see Steve’s profile. He looks horrible, skin pale and lips turned down into a frown. When he turns his head to track the professor’s movements, Bucky can see his black eye. It’s vivid purple, just starting to turn an ugly shade of brown around the edges. 

It looks like it hurts, like Steve would hiss if anyone dare touched it. Bucky wants to know if Steve has been putting ice on it, wants to apologize for his overprotective brother hauling off and clocking him in the face. Most of all, he just wants to crawl onto Steve’s lap, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders and press his face in Steve’s neck, in that curve that seems tailor made for Bucky’s forehead. 

He just wants.

Blood pounds between his ears and it’s impossible to concentrate. He’s just getting himself upset again, and he gathers up his books. Right in the middle of the lecture, he gets up to leave. 

He tries to hurry past Steve, but that doesn’t stop him from reaching out to snag Bucky’s wrist between his finger and thumb. Bucky stumbles to a stop, jerking as if he’d been burned. 

“Bucky,” Steve breathes, barely above a whisper. There is so much packed into those two syllables – pain, regret, longing. Bucky turns his head against his better judgment and meets Steve’s eyes. God, he misses him so much. 

People are looking at them now, and Bucky extracts his wrist from Steve’s loose grasp. He bites his lip and curls his hand into a fist, blinking as his vision blurs. 

He hurries out of the room and doesn’t dare look back at Steve’s face. He’s too afraid of what he’d see.

Once he’s outside in the fresh air he takes deep breaths, trying to clear his head. There is a chill in the air, and he zips his sweatshirt all of the way up as he hurries out to the parking lot. 

He lifts his head to see Natasha and Maria standing near his car. Normally this would be a welcome sight, but they have Sharon with them. He freezes where he stands, not knowing so much anger and hate could be contained in him all at once. 

They walk over to him. Natasha and Maria look nervous and Sharon looks put upon. Bucky holds up his hand once they reach him, shaking it back and forth as he starts to walk around them.

“No,” Bucky says adamantly. “No fucking way.”

“Bucky,” Natasha says pleadingly. “Look, this isn’t a cake walk for any of us, but just listen to her, okay?”

“Why the fuck would I want to do that?” Bucky says, whirling around on them. He’s so angry at them. Why would they corner him like this?

“Bucky,” Sharon starts once Maria nudges her shoulder. “Steve and I didn’t do anything. I swear.” 

“And I have every reason to believe you, right?” Bucky spits out, and Sharon rolls her eyes. 

“Look, man,” she replies. “You and I don’t have the best track record, right? Don’t you think that if anything actually did happen, I’d be gloating right about now?”

Bucky blinks and stands up a little straighter. She sort of has a point. She’d be rubbing salt in Bucky’s wounds if she could. 

“And – I’m sorry,” she continues, albeit quieter. “I was stupid. I’ve been acting like a raving bitch for no reason.” 

“Anything else?” Bucky asks, and Sharon shrugs her shoulders, slipping her hands in her pockets and shaking her head slightly. Bucky huffs out a breath, sending Natasha a lukewarm glare before turning for his car. 

He gets into the driver’s seat and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. The passenger door opens and closes, and Bucky looks over to see Natasha biting her lip, expression sheepish. 

“That was fucked up,” he says with little heat. He’s too exhausted to stay angry for too long. 

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Natasha says. “I don’t know what to do. You won’t believe any of us and we just want you to stop hating Steve.”

Bucky sits up at that, looking over at Natasha with wide eyes. 

“You think I hate Steve?” He asks, shocked. Natasha just shrugs her shoulders. Bucky swallows hard and slumps back against the seat. “I don’t hate him.”

“Then what’s the deal?” Natasha asks, genuinely confused. “You still don’t believe him.”

“No, I – you don’t understand, Natasha,” he says quietly, looking down at his hands. Natasha leans over the console and wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

“Then why don’t you explain it to me?” She asks gently. Bucky bites on his bottom lip and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“I can’t,” he whispers, and that’s true. He can’t even explain it to himself. Natasha makes a disapproving noise but doesn’t pull away. “You gonna leave now?” 

“No,” she sighs, tucking his hair behind his ear. “There’s still some ice cream in Ben’s freezer. We’re gonna go eat it.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Bucky says, turning to give her the smallest of smiles. Natasha smiles back and leans in to kiss the tip of his nose. 

“You got that right,” she says, and then sits back in her seat. Bucky buckles his seatbelt and sticks his key in the ignition. 

Looks like it’s time for more clichéd heartbroken moping. Even Bucky is getting sick of it, so he’s definitely getting Natasha something sparkly for Tonytmas.

That is, if he doesn’t angst himself to death by then.

When he lets himself and Natasha into Ben and Garrett’s apartment, he is surprised to see Tony sprawled across the couch – in his designated moping spot. Bucky lets out a frustrated growl and shuts the door harder than necessary.

“Dude,” Bucky begins through gritted teeth. “On the admittedly long list of people I have absolutely no desire to talk to right now, you’re number two. And I just had to deal with number one so my patience is a bit thin. In other words, leave.”

“What the fuck did I do?” Tony shouts as Bucky stalks into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. He takes a drink and storms back into the living room. 

“Steve and I wouldn’t have fought at all if it weren’t for you!” He shouts. Tony stares in disbelief and Natasha fidgets quietly in the doorway. After a few moments of awkward silence, Ben comes in, head tipped back as he chugs an energy drink. He bumps into Natasha and she latches onto his arm. 

“Ben!” She says, pasting on a fake smile. Ben looks back and forth between Tony and Bucky and opens his mouth to say something, but Natasha cuts him off. “We need more ice cream! Let’s go!” 

“But – “ Ben starts, looking confused. 

“Now,” Natasha replies, and pulls him out of the room. Once they’re alone, Tony gets up off of the couch and looks back towards Bucky. 

“So wait – what?” Tony asks, looking pissed off and confused. 

“The whole reason we even fought was because of the shit you pulled on Halloween,” Bucky tells him, storming past him to flop down onto the couch and cross his arms. 

“Look, I said I was – “

“He thinks you’re fucking in love with me,” Bucky snorts, turning his eyes to the television but not really paying any attention to it. There is a beat of silence in which Tony doesn’t respond.

“Well, he ain’t wrong,” Tony finally says, voice nervous and unsteady. Bucky nearly laughs. 

“Right,” he says, and then turns to look at Tony’s face, eyes widening at the intensely serious expression on it. His breath catches in his throat. “Come on, Tony. Don’t fucking do this to me,” he pleads. 

“I’m not doing shit!” Tony replies, raising his voice slightly. “Christ, Bucky. Do you think I can help it? Do you actually think I would ever act on it?” 

“You did!” Bucky accuses, breathing quickly now. His head is spinning and he doesn’t want to fucking deal with this. 

“That wasn’t my proudest moment,” Tony admits, sitting on the couch next to Bucky. “But I’d be a damn fool to try to come between you two. Besides, it looks like you’re letting yourself do a pretty bang up job of that all on your own.” Bucky glares at him. 

“You don’t even know – “ 

“Yes, I do,” Tony cuts in. “There’s not really such a thing as secrets when it comes to you two. You think Steve cheated on you, which is such fucking bullshit, Buck. I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. Hell, everyone has. Victoria’s Secret’s entire summer line could parade on by him and he wouldn’t even so much as turn his head, you fucking idiot.”

“Will you please shut up?” Bucky pleads, sinking lower into the sofa. 

“No,” Tony says, his gaze hardening. “If you let Steve go, you’re as dumb as you are pretty. And I gotta say, that’s really fucking dumb.”

“I don’t think he cheated on me, okay?” Bucky says, and Tony merely blinks. “I just – I can’t – fuck, Tony. Can you please just go?” 

“Fine,” Tony says, getting up. “I’m not gonna sit around here watching you mope over something that’s your own damn fault.” 

“Good,” Bucky retorts childishly. Tony has his handle on the doorknob before Bucky looks back up, biting his lip. “We’re gonna be – I mean, we’re okay, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Tony says, but he’s smirking. “I don’t like making a habit of hanging around pretty idiots, but for you I’ll think about making an exception.”

“Asshole,” Bucky says, lips turning out into a pout and looking down at his lap. Tony opens the door and leans against the edge of it, sighing.

“Look, Bucky,” he starts. “Whatever it is you’re scared of – it ain’t worth breakin’ two hearts over, alright?” 

Bucky lifts his head, but Tony has already left.

  
  



	33. Chapter 33

On Wednesday afternoon Steve manages to make it into Ed’s for his shift. The hot vapors from the steamer hurts his eye and he wants to throw up every time he gets a good whiff of espresso.

By the time he gets back to the room, he’s fed up and pissed off. 

“Fuck this,” he says, standing in the middle of the room. He walks over to the inflatable bed and unscrews the cap, listening to the whoosh of air as it deflates. Once it’s semi-flat he rolls it into a ball and shoves it into the closet. 

He whirls around and his eyes lock on the collage he made their first day here – all the pictures of them laughing, smiling, kissing. He strides over to it and climbs up onto the desk. He stares at it for a long while, angry tears blurring his vision. He reaches up and strokes his fingers over one of the pictures – he and Bucky at Disneyland – and curls his fingers around the edge. 

There is a bang as his door flies open and he nearly falls off of the desk.

“We’ve got Italiano today!” Wade shouts gleefully. “Spaghetti and – what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m taking all this shit down,” Steve says, wobbling on the desk. “I’m sick of looking at it and feeling sorry for myself.”

“If you’re feeling sorry for yourself, go for a run!” Wade shrieks, coming over to tug on the hem of Steve’s shirt. “Read fmylife.com, hell – cry in a corner while expressing your pain in 140 character bursts. But don’t destroy your shit and risk falling and cracking your enormous head open, you idiot.”

“What’s the point?” Steve shouts, jumping down off of the desk. Wade just looks at him and hooks an arm around his shoulders. 

“You’re gonna want that when Bucky comes back,” Wade says simply, pushing him down onto the bed and handing him a bag of food. Steve just stares at him incredulously.

“He’s not coming back, Wade, okay?” Steve says, taking the bag and setting it on the bed. “It’s fucking over.”

“No, it’s not,” Wade says, and he sounds like he means it. 

“How do you know?” Steve asks desperately, looking up at him through his bangs. Wade just bites his lip and sits down next to Steve, taking his hand again. 

“I’m pretty fucking intuitive, okay?” Wade starts. “I’m good at reading people. This is not the end of you two. It can’t be.”

“Why can’t it?” Steve counters, squeezing Wade’s hand and trying to get this sudden rush of rage under control.

“Because!” Wade shouts. “I’ve never seen any couple love like you two. Young, old, gay, straight – doesn’t matter. If you two don’t make it, what the fuck chance do any of the rest of us have?” 

Steve turns to look over at Wade, eyes watering as he listens to him. “Really?” 

“Yes, dumbass,” Wade says fondly, untangling their hands to reach up and tousle Steve’s hair. “Now eat. I got Rhonda to throw in some extra garlic bread.” 

“Thanks,” Steve sniffs. “You’re a good friend, Wade. Slightly crazy, but still a good friend.”

“Duh.”

  
  



	34. Chapter 34

Bucky is sort of proud of himself. He managed to go to all his classes and work a shift at the bookstore today. It’s Thursday – almost a week since he and Steve broke up.

Being a contributing part of society pretty much zapped all of his energy, and as soon as he gets back to Ben’s he microwaves himself some corndogs and takes up residence on the couch. 

When Ben comes in that night, Bucky is curled up on the sofa, staring despondently at the television. 

“Dude,” Ben says, huffing a sigh and slumping his shoulders. “You are bringing me down.”

Bucky doesn’t reply, just blinks as Ben sets his bag down and strolls over to the couch. Ben smacks at his legs until Bucky lifts them up, letting Ben sit down before he drops his feet on Ben’s lap.

“Alright, Buck,” Ben sighs, slumping back against the cushions. “You’re my kid brother and I love you, but you need to get the fuck out.” 

“What?” Bucky replies, rolling onto his back and staring at Ben, brow furrowed. Ben just scrubs his hand over his face for a moment before turning to look at Bucky. 

“This is our apartment and you’re in here hogging our couch and casting this big black fucking emo ass rain cloud all over everything, and it’s time it stopped,” he says with feeling, and then lowers his voice slightly. “You guys need to make up.”

Bucky glowers and then rolls onto his side again, glaring at the television.

“Oh what, you’re just never going to talk to him again? You’re going to let something that only fucking happened in your delusional little mind ruin eighteen plus years of friendship and the greatest love any of us has ever seen?”

“Stay out of it, Ben,” Bucky snaps. “You’ve never had a relationship last longer than a box of condoms, so don’t act like you’re a fucking expert, alright?” Ben pushes Bucky’s legs off of him roughly and stands up, glaring at him. Bucky sits up, his chest heaving. 

“Fuck you, Bucky,” Ben replies, and Bucky knows he’s pushed him to his breaking point. Ben stares Bucky down with that innate big brother gaze that usually can get Bucky cowering. “I know the real reason you’re doing this. You’re fucking scared. You’re the only guy Steve has ever been interested in, and you’re afraid one day he’ll decide he actually does want the wife and the golden retriever and the two-point-five kids and you’ll end up with your heart broken. So you’re using this mother of all misunderstandings as an excuse to end it while you still have the chance to make it out relatively unscathed because you’re a fucking coward.” 

“Fuck you!” Bucky spits, pushing Ben back roughly by his shoulders. His chest feels tight and his eyes itch as he starts to pace angrily, refusing to meet Ben’s serious gaze – mainly because he doesn’t want him to know he just hit the proverbial nail on the fucking head. 

“Did I hit a nerve?” Ben says, and Bucky turns to face him. “Don’t act like I’m wrong. I know you better than anyone. Except for Steve, that is. And he’s fucking wrecked, man. You’re gonna put him through that for something he didn’t even do?” 

“You don’t know – “

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Buck,” Ben interrupts. “He didn’t do it and you fucking know it.” Bucky slumps his shoulders because yeah, he does know. “Dude, he fucking loves you. The least you can do is go talk to him. If you’re really gonna end it, he at least deserves to know the real reason why. Personally, I think you should stop being such a fucking pussy – worrying about the future and shit that may or may not happen. Just fucking live your life, Bucky.”

Bucky sighs, glaring up at Ben, who just smiles smugly and points to the door. “Now get out.”

“You’re seriously kicking me out?” Bucky asks, baffled. Ben just raises an eyebrow, arm still extended outward. Bucky just sighs, gathering his keys and phone from the end table before storming past Ben. His brother snags him around the shoulders and pulls him into a hug. Bucky slumps against him, hugging him back in silent thanks. 

Ben pushes him back by the shoulders, grins at him, and gives him a little shove towards the door. Bucky takes a deep breath and heads out into the cool night air.

Bucky sits in his car for five minutes before he chickens out. But he really does need to go to the room, if only because he’s out of clothes and most of his textbooks are there. Well, that and he apparently no longer has a place to stay.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials a familiar number. 

“Wilson.”

“Hey Sam,” Bucky sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sucks so fucking hard right now. Ben is right – he is a coward. 

“Oh. Hey dude. Uh, how you holdin’ up?” Sam asks in a sympathetic tone that sounds sort of odd coming from him. He hasn’t seen Sam much since the break up, since he apparently took Team Rogers when Wanda joined the Barnes camp. 

“I’ve been better,” Bucky says, laughing humorously. “Listen, I – uh, need to get some stuff from the room. I was wondering if you could do me a favor and get him out of there for a few. Like, go to the student union and get some food or something.” He sounds so pathetic, even to his own ears. 

“Dude, this is getting fucking ridiculous. You have to talk to him eventually,” Sam replies. 

“I know, I just – “

“Steve is in a sad state, man. I went over there last night and he was just fucking lying in the dark listening to Death Cab. I am not even shitting you. Death Cab for Cutie, Bucky. He probably wishes it had been raining so he could have been staring out the fucking window. It’s pathetic, is what it is.”

“Sam.”

“I’m just so sick of all the pain.”

“Sam!” 

“Alright! Shit. I’ll go up there and see if I can get him to go,” Sam says. “It’s taco night, anyway. I’ll text you when we we are gone, you weeping little girl.” 

“I don’t even know why I’m friends with you,” Bucky sighs. He can practically see Sam grinning smarmily on the other end. 

“Because I’m fucking awesome. Later!”

Bucky hears a click in his ear and he rolls his eyes as he tosses the phone on the passenger seat. He flicks on the stereo and leans back, reaching up to rub at his temples. 

It’s about fifteen minutes later when his phone buzzes.  _ all clear dickburn _ , reads the text from Sam. Bucky grits his teeth and reminds himself that Sam is an excellent friend.

Sometimes.

He’s lucky enough not to really pass anyone in the hall, and when he reaches their door he takes a deep breath. He bows his head as he pushes the door open, shuffling his feet as he heads inside. 

He starts a little when he hears a slight gasp and looks up to see Steve staring at him, mouth agape from his place on the bed. Bucky leans back against the door, fingers in a death grip around the handle as his heart beats rapidly against his ribcage.

“Buck,” Steve gasps, the one syllable holding relief, regret, pain – and various other emotions Bucky isn’t prepared to deal with. He doesn’t want to see Steve’s wide, dark eyes or flushed cheeks. 

“Have you talked to Sam?” Bucky asks, and Steve furrows his brow as he pulls himself into a sitting position. 

“Not since this morning,” Steve replies slowly, obviously confused as to why they’re talking about Sam when Bucky has suddenly shown up after steadfastly refusing to speak to him for the better part of a week. “Why?”

Bucky sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he extracts his phone from the pocket of his pajama pants. He creates a text and his skin feels too tight under Steve’s stare.  _ You’re an asshole _ , he sends to Sam. 

Steve and Bucky engage in some sort of hideously awkward staring contest until Bucky’s phone vibrates in his hand. 

_ it had 2 b done dude. TALK 2 HIM. _

Bucky swallows hard and slips his phone in his pocket, looking back up at Steve. He looks so hopeful, eyeing Bucky like he’s the answer to all his problems – like Bucky isn’t some insecure, fucked up loser that isn’t good enough for him.

“How’s your eye?” Bucky asks awkwardly, and he feels his cheeks heat up. The swelling is gone, the cut is nearly healed, and the bruises have faded to a mixture of purple and yellow hues. Steve always was a fast healer. 

“It’s fine, I guess,” Steve says, face breaking out into an unexpected grin. He looks so happy to see Bucky, like he’s already forgiven Bucky for all the pain he’s caused. He’s so beautiful, all flushed skin and hopeful, bright blue eyes. Bucky doesn’t know how he lasted so long without seeing him. He wants to bury his fingers in Steve’s hair, kiss him and never come up for air. 

He realizes then, as his eyes involuntarily trace the curve of Steve’s smile, that he isn’t leaving tonight. No matter how scared and confused he is, no matter how unsure of himself he may be – the thought of letting Steve out of his sight again is too much to bear. 

He takes a deep breath, lets go of the door handle, and takes a step forward.

Steve gets up off of the bed and Bucky lets out a nervous laugh that bubbles up out of his throat before he can help it. His vision blurs slightly and he blinks a few times. Bucky is moving before he can stop himself, walking up to Steve and throwing his arms around Steve’s neck.

He hears Steve’s sharp intake of breath, hands settling on Bucky’s hips for just a moment before wrapping around his waist. Bucky fits his forehead into the curve of Steve’s neck and inhales deeply. It’s like every piece of the puzzle has just fallen into place – he’s all put back together, whole in Steve’s arms. 

He sucks in a shaky breath, squeezes Steve tighter and tries to convey I love you and I miss you and please don’t ever let me let you go without any words. Steve reaches up to cup the back of Bucky’s head, kissing his forehead soft and timid, and it sounds a lot like I promise and I need you so much, don’t ever leave.

Countless seconds tick by as they just stand there, embracing like they’re making up for lost time. Steve is so warm, so strong wrapped all around him. He can feel his eyelashes clumping with unshed tears and he pulls away, chuckling softly and running his fingers through his hair.

“Wade just brought me half a pizza,” Steve says after a few seconds of fidgeting awkwardly. “You can have half. I mean, half of my half. It’s uh, pepperoni and sausage. And Ghostbusters is about to come on. I was gonna watch it. And maybe you could watch it, too. With me – I mean.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, smiling a little. Steve nods and gestures towards his bed. He grabs the pizza box and crawls onto it, sitting up near the headboard. Their television is positioned kitty-corner from Steve’s bed, so Bucky can sit near the end of the bed and still see okay. 

Steve doesn’t seem to mind the seating arrangement. He just sets the box down between them and flips it open, revealing half of a greasy pizza. Steve takes a slice and shoves half of it into his mouth, grabbing the remote with his free hand. 

They eat in silence for the first half hour of the movie, and tension crackles between them in a way it never has before. Bucky wipes his greasy fingers on his pajama pants and chews nervously on his bottom lip. 

“Okay, shit,” Steve says, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t gonna say anything because I’m so glad you’re here, but nothing happened that night. I swear.”

Bucky blinks, looks over at Steve’s earnest and honest expression. There is no trace of a lie in his expressive eyes, and Bucky feels like an ass. 

“I know,” Bucky says, clearing his throat and knitting his brows together. “I realized pretty quick that you wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Then I don’t get it,” Steve says, obviously hurt and a little confused. “Why did you stay away for so long?” 

“Because I’m a selfish idiot with years worth of unfounded emotional baggage?” Bucky says, laughing nervously and fiddling with the tie on his sweatpants. “But mainly because – well, because I got scared. It’s only been six months and you mean absolutely everything to me. I sort of realized that you pretty much hold my happiness in your hands, and I just couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt to lose you even further down the line.” 

He can’t even look at Steve as his cheeks heat up. He’s ashamed of himself for treating Steve like this, for causing him so much pain just because of his own shortcomings. His breath hitches and he lets out a shaky breath, bringing up a hand to cover his eyes. He feels stretched thin and so vulnerable, like he’s seconds away from falling. 

“Buck,” Steve sighs, and Bucky risks a glance over at him. His brows are furrowed and he looks sort of frustrated. Bucky swallows hard and steels himself. He really wouldn’t be surprised if Steve told him it was over. “I’m not sure what I have to do to convince you that what we have is pretty epic. It’s not going anywhere. Unless you let it,” he adds softly. 

“I know,” Bucky says, swallowing thickly. Steve sets the pizza box on the floor and scoots a little closer, reaching out to take Bucky’s hand in his own, interlocking their fingers. It’s like electricity shooting up Bucky’s arm, and he squeezes. 

“So what made you decide to come back?” Steve asks softly, stroking the back of Bucky’s hand with his thumb. Bucky looks down at their joined hands and bites his lip, deciding not to tell Steve that he didn’t really make the decision to walk back into their room. It’s unimportant, anyway. As soon as he saw Steve, he knew he couldn’t last another day without him. 

“Honestly?” Bucky asks, looking up at him. “I’m still scared. But whatever happens will happen. I just know I need to be with you.” 

“Do you have any idea how much my life would suck without you?” Steve asks. “If there’s anything this past week has taught me, it’s that you are never fucking getting rid of me.” Bucky looks up at Steve through his lashes, relaxing at just the sight of his smile. 

“You promise?” He asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Steve smiles indulgently, leaning in to cup Bucky’s cheek, thumb stroking across his cheekbone. 

“Hell yes,” he says, leaning in closer. His eyes flick from Bucky’s mouth to his eyes and back. He can feel Steve’s breath warm on his lips and Bucky licks his own instinctively. His heart beats a little faster, like this is their first kiss all over again. “But only if you kiss me.” 

Bucky brings his hands up to put them on Steve’s cheeks, closing the last few centimeters between them to press his lips to Steve’s. The feeling is overwhelming – a whirling rush of emotions that hit him all at once. 

He’s laughing suddenly, a bubbly sound that tumbles out against Steve’s smile. He’s just so relieved, suddenly happy after a week of feeling like he’d never smile again. Steve presses their foreheads together, his arms circling Bucky’s waist and pulling him closer. He wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, pressing his lips to the mole next to his nose before kissing him again. 

Steve’s tongue traces Bucky’s bottom lip softly and Bucky parts his lips, allowing Steve to sweep his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, tangle them together. They kiss until they are out of breath and then some, mouths only parting to sneak much needed oxygen. 

Eventually Steve pulls them down onto the bed so that they’re laying side by side, limbs all tangled together. It never goes any further than kissing, and when they finally pull apart Bucky is panting, lips swollen and tingling as he smiles. Steve grins, lips skimming Bucky’s temple before he lets his head drop onto the pillow. 

Bucky rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, lying almost completely on top of him. He just closes his eyes and breathes in deep. 

He knows this isn’t an easy fix. Their problems aren’t going to go away overnight. Bucky is still irrationally afraid of what the future might bring, but it’s hard to care when he’s completely wrapped up in Steve. 

“This feels good,” Bucky mumbles, eyes slipping shut as Steve rubs his back in slow circles. He feels Steve’s lips press against the top of his head and his own lips curve up into a smile.

“I am a fan of the cuddling,” Steve says a few moments later, fingertips stroking up Bucky’s arm. “But can we maybe cuddle with my dick in you? I mean, it’s been awhile.”

Bucky’s eyes snap open as he rolls onto his side and props himself up on one arm, staring at Steve incredulously. Steve grins wide and happy, pink tongue peeking out from between his slightly uneven teeth. Bucky rolls his eyes, grinning involuntarily.

“You asshole,” he says, but the grin doesn’t slip from his face. He is slightly relieved, because sex is the furthest thing from his mind. He isn’t sure why – he knows that make up sex should come standard right about now, but he really just wants to lay here with Steve, to slow down and think about things. 

“It’s called a joke, Buck!” Steve laughs, hand reaching up to curve around Bucky’s hip like he can’t bear not to touch. “Just breaking the tension.” 

Bucky laughs, reaching down to pinch Steve’s hip hard enough to bruise. Steve yelps, his body jerking up into Bucky’s and knocking him off balance. Bucky feels himself slipping, eyes widening as he grabs onto Steve. He falls and drags Steve down with him, fingers digging into his forearms.

They hit the floor with a thump, eyes watering from laughing so hard. Steve rolls on top of him, reaching up to place his hands on Bucky’s neck, thumbs skimming across either side of his jaw. The laughter dies down and they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, silly grins turning into soft, private smiles. 

“Welcome home,” Steve whispers, and leans down to press their lips together again.

  
  



	35. Chapter 35

Steve wakes up slowly, easing into consciousness. The first thing he realizes is that the bed is empty. The sheets are cold. He doesn’t dare open his eyes.

Dread forms in the pit of his stomach, leftover from the week of pessimism. When he finally lets his eyes slip open, he nearly laughs at his own foolishness. There is a note propped up on the nightstand, simply reading  _ smoking _ . Bucky thinks it’s stupid to sign a note when it’s obvious who it’s from.

Steve rolls out of bed and stretches, back popping pleasantly. He’s a little antsy not being near Bucky, so he steps into his flip-flops and scratches his belly as he makes his way downstairs. He thought maybe Bucky would slow down on the smoking once he had to go up and down two flights of stairs just to have a smoke, and he has cut back a little. He still smokes like a chimney when he’s nervous. Or scared.

The air is crisp and cool, Thanksgiving right around the corner, and Steve shivers slightly. Bucky is sitting on the bottom step, his back to Steve as he brings a cigarette up to his lips. Usually, this would be where Steve pounces on him, wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck and risks a cigarette burn as he flops all of his weight down onto him. 

But the tense line of Bucky’s back reminds Steve that he doesn’t know where exactly they stand, not really. So instead he just sits on the step next to him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body but not close enough to touch. Bucky exhales wispy smoke and then looks over at Steve. He looks gorgeous and sleepy, lips puffy and hair sticking up at all angles. 

“I was just about to come back up,” Bucky says, but there is a slightly guilty edge to his tone, like he considered not doing so. He scratches the back of his head with the hand holding the cigarette, and the proximity of fire to hair makes Steve incredibly nervous. “What are you doing down here?” 

“Well,” Steve starts, knocking their shoulders together playfully. “I was hoping if I played my cards right, I could get a kiss that tastes like an ashtray. And maybe a little lung cancer.” Bucky rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking as he stubs out the cigarette. “You know I wish you’d quit.” 

“I know,” Bucky says, sticking his lighter back into the half-empty cigarette pack. “And I’ll try. But now is not the time to cut off my nicotine supply.” 

“Okay,” Steve says lamely, picking at the hem of his tee shirt. His skin feels too tight and he feels awkward in a way he hasn’t since his first growth spurt. But even then, he wasn’t awkward around Bucky. This is a very new and very uncomfortable feeling. 

“You really wanna kiss me even though I taste like an ashtray?” Bucky says, sounding sort of skeptical. Steve doesn’t look up from his lap, shrugging his shoulders slightly and hating the tension crackling between them. 

“I always want to kiss you,” Steve mumbles. “No matter what.”

Silence hangs between them for a few moments, and then Bucky’s hand comes up to rest on the back of Steve’s neck, squeezing gently. Bucky leans in, pressing soft lips against Steve’s temple. Steve turns his head and Bucky kisses him, dry and chaste. Steve brings his hand up to clutch at the back of Bucky’s shirt, nearly crying out in relief when Bucky’s tongue parts his lips and dips inside. He does taste like an ashtray, stale and acidic, but Steve can’t get enough. 

They kiss for a long time, ignoring the cold seeping into their bones in favor of the warm heat connecting their mouths. Just when Steve thinks he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen, a loud shriek breaks them apart. 

“So, it’s true!” Natasha shouts, and throws herself onto their laps. Steve coughs and splutters as she slings her arms around them both. “Ben called me and told me you were here. I’m so happy for you guys!” 

She kisses them both on the cheek and Bucky shifts her onto Steve’s lap, reaching out to swipe his thumb across Steve’s lips before standing up.

“I need to get ready for work,” he says, and then heads inside the main doors of the dorm, banging the bottom of his cigarette pack against the palm of his hand – a nervous tick he acquired shortly after picking up smoking that he doesn’t think Steve knows about. 

Natasha watches his retreating form and then looks over at Steve, confusion evident in her dark chocolate eyes. “It looked like you had made up. Are you guys okay?”

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, concentrates on the flare of pain at the base of his neck, knotted muscle thanks to the tension keeping his body coiled tightly. He swallows hard, and then looks at Natasha helplessly.

“I’m not really sure,” he admits, and Natasha presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

They don’t really see each other again until that evening when Steve gets back from his last class. Steve nearly trips over the air mattress hogging the floor. Bucky is perched on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest.

“Hey,” Steve says as he hangs his bag up in the closet. He kicks off his shoes and steps gingerly onto the bed, carefully walking across it to stand in front of Bucky. He tilts his head up and Steve hesitates for a moment before cupping his cheek. He leans down to give him a soft kiss, and even without parting their lips Steve can still taste the smoke, unsuccessfully disguised with peppermint gum. 

“I was productive today,” Bucky says, sounding almost proud. “I went and got all my stuff from Ben and Garrett’s, and I did laundry.” 

“And you shaved,” Steve adds, dragging his fingertips across smooth skin void of brown stubble. Bucky flushes, and reaches up to gently prod at Steve’s eye. It doesn’t hurt, not really. By now the bruise is just an ugly yellow and brown smudge, nearly invisible. Bucky stands up and presses his lips to it in a silent apology. Steve smiles, lets Bucky feel the curve of it against his jaw. 

“I got some movies,” Bucky says, resting his hands on Steve’s hips. “I just want to stay in with you.” 

“Sounds good,” Steve says, hiding a yawn against the top of Bucky’s head. He smells like lavender shampoo and Steve inhales deeply. 

Steve changes into a pair of sweats and a wifebeater and gets settled under the covers while Bucky puts in a movie. He grabs the remote and curls up next to Steve, pressing play. It’s some sort of mindless comedy that neither one of them really pay attention to. 

Bucky rolls onto his side, back pressed firmly against Steve’s chest. Steve tucks his knees against the back of Bucky’s, sliding a hand up his belly to rest it over Bucky’s heart. They fall asleep almost immediately, soft and relaxed in each other’s embrace.

They both use the weekend to catch up – mainly on sleep. Although both of them spent nearly an entire week wallowing in bed, they didn’t really get much rest. They catch up on some homework and go do their respective shifts at work, but most of the weekend is spent with them passed out on top of each other on the air mattress.

And that’s about it. 

It doesn’t take an idiot to realize that Bucky isn’t acting like himself. He’s closed off and withdrawn, barely speaking and hardly smiling. It sort of breaks Steve’s heart. Things between them are obviously not okay. 

They fall asleep together every night – they kiss and touch and cuddle up together in bed. They haven’t gotten any further than first base since they called their truce. It’s not even just about the sex. Steve misses the intimacy between them, the bone deep connection he feels when they’re pressed together skin to skin. He misses Bucky’s playfulness – the way he would wake Steve with sweet kisses and teasing little touches. He misses Bucky’s sharp wit and booming laugh. 

He misses the way things used to be, and he’s absolutely terrified things will never be the same. 

All of this doesn’t change the fact that he’s an eighteen-year-old boy in his sexual prime who hasn’t gotten off in over a week. He promised himself he would wait and let Bucky make the first move, but he’s going slightly crazy.

It’s Tuesday afternoon and Bucky is working a shift at the bookstore. Steve shifts restlessly on his bed, flashes of Bucky rushing unbidden behind his eyelids. He slides his hand down to cup himself through his jeans, hissing as he squeezes. 

He bucks up into his hand, squeezing his eyes shut and picturing Bucky. He lets out an exasperated sigh and lets his hands drop to his sides. He feels guilty thinking about his own fucking boyfriend when he jerks off. Fantastic. He just takes a deep breath and wills his erection away, telling himself that Bucky will come around eventually.

There’s a knock on the door and Wade comes barging in, and Steve is suddenly glad he didn’t get around to jerking off. 

“Hey Steve,” Wade says brightly. “What’s up?”

Steve just scoffs and rolls off of the bed, clenching his fists and shifting his hips a little. Wade raises an eyebrow and bites down on his lip. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone was sexually frustrated,” Wade says, and Steve pins him with a glare. 

“Then you obviously don’t know shit,” Steve grumbles, flopping down into his desk chair and crossing his arms. Wade’s eyes widen in surprise. 

“Wait,” he starts, “you mean to tell me you and Bucky haven’t consummated your joyous reunion? You two fuck like it’s going out of style. We hang out in my room and take bets on who’s gonna come first.”

“Wait – you what?” Steve asks incredulously. “How the hell do you know who wins?” 

“You each have a very distinctive, and loud, finish,” Wade states plainly, and Steve stares at him. 

“I am so fucking disturbed right now,” Steve says, shaking his head. “If Bucky ever puts out again, I’m so soundproofing this room.”

“So what’s going on?” Wade asks. “Why the lack of sex?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve says bitterly, getting up and kicking a shoe against the wall. “Bucky is on his fucking period?” 

“Dude,” Wade says, getting up and grabbing Steve by the shoulders. “Clean the fucking pipes before you start sounding more like a douchebag, alright?” 

“I can’t!” Steve snaps, shrugging out of Wade’s grasp. “I feel like I should fucking wait for him or something. It’s fucking ridiculous. I am horny.”

“I have so many possible responses to that,” Wade replies, “but I’m pretty sure all of them will get me punched in the face.”

“Probably,” Steve grumbles, flopping back onto his bed. Wade crashes down on top of him, and all the air rushes from Steve’s lungs. They wiggle and squirm until they are lying on their backs, side by side. 

“Sexual tension is a bitch,” Wade says, and Steve lets out a snort. “Look at me and Peter.” 

“Peter is never going to fuck you,” Steve says, cutting him a look. Wade just rolls his eyes and puts his arms behind his head, knocking his elbow against Steve’s ear. 

“It’ll happen,” Wade replies, “And when it does? It’ll be fucking explosive. Best sex ever.”

“Please don’t make me think about you and Peter fucking,” Steve pleads. He lays there, eyes widening after a moment. He groans and slaps his hands over his face. “Oh god.”

“Sure paints a pretty picture, doesn’t it?” Wade says, pursing his lips and nodding. Steve shakes his head back and forth rapidly, hands still covering his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Please get out,” Steve pleads, peeking at Wade through splayed fingers. Wade smirks over at him and raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh now you suddenly want to be alone,” he says teasingly. Steve blinks and then grimaces, pointing towards the door. 

“Leave,” Steve says. Wade rolls onto his side and looks down at Steve, his expression suddenly serious. Steve lowers his hands and blinks up at him. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, okay?” Wade says, pressing a chaste kiss to Steve’s forehead. “It’ll happen when it’s right. And it’ll be worth the wait.”

“There you go being a good friend again,” Steve says fondly, and Wade flicks the sharp end of his nose. “Or not.”

“I am what I am,” Wade says with a shrug, rolling off of Steve’s bed. Steve sits up as the door opens and Bucky shuffles inside. There are dark circles under his eyes and his freckles stand out starkly on his pale skin like caramel on cream. He still looks so tired, like he hasn’t let himself relax at all. Steve’s heart clenches in his chest. 

“Hey kid,” Wade says, scampering over to Bucky and flicking the lobe of Bucky’s ear. “Take a nap.” 

Bucky just rolls his eyes as Wade leaves and drops his bag on the floor, heaving out a sigh. He stands in the middle of the room, glancing from Steve to his bed to the air mattress and back again, seeming conflicted. 

“Come here,” Steve requests, and Bucky obliges. Steve grabs him by the belt loops and pulls Bucky onto the bed with him, maneuvering them both until they’re lying side by side. Bucky’s face is inches from his, eyelids drooping sleepily, lips turned downwards in a slight frown. Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s cheek gently, the tip of his thumb across the purple smudge under Bucky’s eye. 

“I miss you,” Steve whispers, and Bucky blinks his eyes open. They’re so blue, shocking Steve over and over again with their intensity. 

“I’m right here,” Bucky says, reaching up to touch Steve’s hand. Steve wants to argue. This isn’t him. Bucky laughs and gets crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Bucky smiles and mocks and ridicules. He bitches and moans and knows how to drive Steve absolutely insane with one brush of his fingers. Bucky is lively, full of color and energy. 

Bucky doesn’t get lost in himself, doesn’t let his bright eyes cloud over with a vacant expression, like he’s doubting everything and fearing the worst. Bucky doesn’t constantly act like he’s bracing himself for the end of the world.

“No,” Steve starts. “That’s not what – “ He’s cut off by the shrill ringing of Bucky’s cell phone. Bucky pitches forward, forehead pressed up against Steve’s collarbone as he retrieves it from his pocket. 

“Hello?” He answers, voice muffled against Steve’s shirt. “Hey Natasha. Yeah, we’re here. Come up.” Bucky lets the phone drop to the bed and puts his hand on Steve’s chest, sliding his shirt up slightly to reveal his tattoo. His fingers trail over it and Steve shudders, eyes feverish when they meet Bucky’s. 

They kiss, but it doesn’t feel natural. It feels like Bucky is trying too hard. Steve pulls back with a sigh, cupping the back of Bucky’s skull and bringing their foreheads together. 

“I want you to be happy,” Steve confesses, fingers carding through Bucky’s soft hair. “Why aren’t you happy?” 

“I am,” Bucky says, blinking a few times. “I am.”

“Who’re you trying to convince?” Steve asks brokenly, and Bucky bows his head. Steve rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and blinking away the sting in his eyes. 

“I love you,” Bucky says resolutely, palm splayed over Steve’s tattoo. It’s not a lie – that much Steve knows. Bucky loves him more than anything. 

“I’m sorry it makes you miserable,” he says plainly, and Bucky swallows hard. 

“Steve,” Bucky replies, scooting closer to him. “Don’t ever – “

Natasha comes in then, greeting them brightly. Bucky huffs and lets his head fall forward, face pressed against Steve’s neck for a moment before pulling away and sitting up.

“Hi,” Bucky says, and Steve blinks rapidly a few times before sitting up and pasting on a smile. Natasha sits in the desk chair and cocks her head at them, brows knitted. “What’s up?” 

“Uh,” Natasha says eloquently, biting her lip. Steve and Bucky share a brief look and then turn back to Natasha. “I have a date tonight?” 

“That’s great,” Bucky says genuinely, and leans back against Steve’s chest. He’s still tense, but Steve appreciates the gesture. He wraps his arm loosely around Bucky’s waist. “With who?”

“Ben,” Natasha says quickly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Bucky just tilts his head to the side slightly.

“Ben who?” He asks, and Steve buries his laugh in Bucky’s shoulder. Natasha looks over at him, a confused expression gracing her pretty features. 

“Ben. Benny. Benjamin. Ben Barnes,” she says slowly, and Steve bites his lip to keep from cracking up. Bucky is quiet for a moment, lips pursed. Steve leans in and presses his smile against the curve of Bucky’s jaw. Steve’s own unease ebbs away at the sight of Natasha’s obvious discomfort and Bucky being so completely oblivious. It seems to hit Bucky then, bright eyes widening comically. 

“Wait,” Bucky says, holding up one hand. “My brother, Ben?” 

“Yes!” Natasha shrieks, finally looking excited rather than nervous. “We bonded over you being an emo pain in the ass, and he asked me out!”

“That’s great,” Steve laughs. Natasha bounces in her chair and Bucky just stares at her. 

“Hold on,” he says. “You, Natasha, are going out with my brother, Ben?” 

“Yes,” Natasha and Steve say in unison.

“Barnes?” 

“Yes!”

“But why?” Bucky demands, looking helplessly at Steve like this is horrible news. Steve just shrugs and pulls Bucky tighter against his body. He comes willingly and looks back at Natasha.

“I dunno,” Natasha says, but she’s grinning. “He’s adorable. Funny. And so sweet.”

“You have met Ben, right?” Steve asks, and Bucky just nods in agreement. Natasha gives them a mock glare. 

“You’re okay with this, right?” Natasha asks uncertainly, and Bucky shrugs. 

“I guess. I mean, yeah,” Bucky replies, and he tangles his fingers with Steve’s. “I just don’t like to think of my brother fucking anyone, let alone one of my best friends.” 

“Whoa, hey!” Natasha shouts, waving her hands around in the air. “There will be no fucking tonight. We’re just having dinner.” 

“Does Ben know that?” Bucky asks. “Because that’s not how his dates usually go.” 

“Stop making your brother sound like a douchebag,” Steve says, nipping at Bucky’s earlobe. 

“But my brother is a douchebag,” Bucky retorts, and Natasha reaches out to slap his thigh. 

“Look,” she says, leveling Bucky with a hardened gaze. “Neither one of us have had the best track record, alright? But I think we’ll be good for each other.”

“I think you’ll be cute together,” Steve says, and Bucky sighs. 

“Don’t let my brother touch you,” Bucky finally says. “Not tonight, at least. Make him work for it. You’re worth it.” 

“Okay,” Natasha says, grinning again. She looks absolutely thrilled, glowing with excitement. Steve is happy for her. 

“And order something really expensive,” he adds, and Natasha gets up to kiss both their foreheads. Bucky rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. Finally. 

“Deal!” She agrees. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

“I want you home and in bed by eleven, young lady!” Bucky shouts. Natasha just blows him a kiss and he flips her off. It’s so much like the old Bucky that Steve’s heart clenches a little. 

She leaves, and silence settles between them. Steve rests his chin on Bucky’s shoulder and lets out a little hum. 

“Ben and Natasha, sittin’ in a tree,” he singsongs, and Bucky flicks his nose. 

“This is so fucking weird,” Bucky says, shaking his head and slumping back against Steve, boneless and sleepy. 

“We’ll have our own date night,” Steve says, tugging playfully at Bucky’s hair. “Greasy take-out, shitty movie, or passing out in a lazy pile?” 

“All of the above,” Bucky says, smiling softly. Steve leans down and presses a chaste kiss to Bucky’s mouth. 

This time, it doesn’t feel forced. Not at all.

  
  



	36. Chapter 36

There is a second, rarely used bathroom on their floor. It’s not as central as the big one near the lounge, not as shiny and new.

Steve and Bucky prefer this older, smaller, lesser used bathroom. They use it all the time, sneaking off to it in the middle of the night to shower together, pressed together slick and wet in the tiny shower stalls. 

Someone walked in on them once, and they had stayed behind the shower curtain, palms slapped over their giggling mouths as they tried to stay silent, faces tipped up into the spray as the other person showered next to them. 

Steve had placed his hand over Bucky’s mouth, blue eyes mischievous as his other hand slipped down between Bucky’s legs to curl around his cock. He’d jerked Bucky off, tight and slow, and Bucky fought to stay silent as the person in the next stall over sang an off key rendition of Build Me Up, Buttercup.

It was one of the most erotic moments of Bucky’s life. 

He came silently, slicking up his belly as Steve pressed their mouths together. The other person finished up soon after that, and the sound of flip-flops slapping against wet tile was all they heard as they left. 

Steve and Bucky had stared at each other, eyes wide until they finally started laughing. Steve was still hard, and Bucky had winked as he spun around to face the tiles. Steve fucked him, using slippery conditioner as lube and their cries echoed off of the porcelain. 

A few days later Wade had given them an out of order sign he’d quote-unquote procured from the janitor. They’ve put it to good use ever since. 

It’s sort of a tradition – when it’s late and they can’t sleep they go use that bathroom to clean up, shave, get off, and relax. It’s quiet and peaceful, and it’s something Bucky looks forward to. 

So when Steve rolls off of his bed at one in the morning and grabs his towel, Bucky doesn’t even think before getting up to join him. He’s already gathered his towel, toiletries, and do not disturb sign when he looks up to find Steve staring at him with a raised eyebrow. His stomach tightens. 

He’d almost forgotten things were different, that there was this tension between them stretched tight like a rubber band. He knows it’s his fault, that he’s the one holding back, and he bites down on his lip and looks up at Steve through his lashes. 

Steve shifts his towel and toiletry bag to his other arm and takes Bucky’s hand. His palm is warm and smooth, fingers sure when they slot with Bucky’s. He lets out a deep breath and follows Steve out of the room.

Their feet are nearly silent against the carpeted floor as they make their way down the hall. The lights are dimmed and it’s oddly quiet, everyone asleep in their rooms. They make their way towards the bathroom and Bucky looks around, blushing as he sticks the sign on the outside of the door. 

Steve opens it and waves him in with a flourish. They flick on the lights and one of the bulbs is blown out, bathing the white tiles with soft orange light. There are three tiny shower stalls taking up one wall and Bucky thinks of all the times they’ve squeezed into them, slick with soap and fitting together like puzzle pieces under the spray. 

Bucky doesn’t say anything as he undresses, feeling Steve’s eyes, hot and hungry on his skin the entire time. He swallows hard and ducks into the middle stall, pulling the curtain shut. He thinks he hears Steve make a tiny noise of disappointment, but he could be imagining things. 

But then he hears the thunk of Steve’s things hitting the counter, the quick whoosh of clothes as they hit the floor, and the angry clink of the shower curtain rings as he enters the stall next to him, and he thinks he was probably right. 

They shower in silence, and Bucky swears he can hear the water hitting Steve’s skin, can picture it sluicing down his perfect body. He’s so close, just inches of tile separating them. Bucky could close the distance between them if he wanted, and god, he does. But he just can’t. Not yet. 

He spends so much time thinking about Steve that he nearly forgets to wash himself, and Steve’s shower cuts off when he still has shampoo in his hair. He hurries to rinse and then spins the creaky old knobs until the water cuts off and he shivers against the sudden cold. 

Bucky grabs his towel off of the rack and quickly dries off in the stall before he wraps it around his waist and steps out. Steve is at the mirror in nothing but a pair of blue flannel pajama pants, towel dried hair sticking up at crazy angles. He’s setting his things on the counter – a razor, shaving cream, and his towel. 

Bucky pulls on his own pajama pants and drops his own towel on the floor, biting down nervously on his lip. 

“Let me,” Bucky says, and it’s only then he realizes how long they’ve gone without speaking. Steve catches his gaze in the mirror, one eyebrow rising delicately. He turns around and leans against the counter, looking down at his straight razor and picking it up. He twirls it in his fingers once before handing it over. 

Bucky takes it with steady fingers, meeting Steve’s eyes and wondering over the trust the other boy has in him – something he seems to have taken for granted. Bucky picks up Steve’s towel and fills the sink with warm water, patting the counter with his other hand. Steve hops up onto it and Bucky works his way between Steve’s knees. 

He looks up to meet Steve’s gaze – always taller, always stronger – and he swallows hard. Steve’s eyes are wide and bright, full of emotion. Longing, patience, love. Bucky reaches up to cup Steve’s cheek, swipes his thumb over the sharp rasp of stubble and slowly leans in to press his mouth under Steve’s jaw. Steve shivers just from that one little touch, and it makes Bucky feel almost powerful. He drags his lips across the line of Steve’s jaw to his chin, feeling stubble burn sensitive skin. 

He presses his thumb into the tiny dent of Steve’s chin, pulls down until Steve’s lips are slightly parted and he presses his mouth to them, first the top and then the bottom. He wraps an arm around Steve’s neck, forgetting his original task as he loses himself in the feeling. Steve’s hands are strong on his hips, and he kisses Bucky with a lazy, slow burn and build up that makes Bucky want to weep. 

He pulls away when he’s breathless, pressing his forehead against Steve’s temple as he reaches for the shaving cream. He lathers it up in his hands, cupping Steve’s cheeks and spreading the cream across his face. He rinses his hands in the sink and picks up the razor again, dipping it in the water and reaching up to gently cup Steve’s chin. 

“Hold still,” he whispers, and Steve’s eyes flash bright and then go dark. He’s immobile as stone, and Bucky tilts his head to the side as he presses the razor to his cheek and drags it down to reveal baby smooth skin. He repeats the process on his cheeks and chin, leaning in to kiss bits of skin as they’re exposed, drops of shaving cream clinging to his lips. He tilts Steve’s head up and back, carefully dragging the razor down the contours of Steve’s neck, over his jugular and down. 

When the shaving cream is all gone Bucky leans in, presses his mouth to Steve’s pulse point and feels the rapid beat against his lips as he sets the razor down. He kisses and sucks at the spot, hands finding Steve’s hips as he leans in. Steve is so hard, that much he can feel against his hips, and god, he wants to give him that. He’s just not ready yet – some invisible, infuriating wall holding him back. 

Instead he pulls away, picks up the towel and cleans off Steve’s face. He hops off of the counter and looks unsure of himself, stark white teeth digging into his bottom lip. Bucky clears his throat and picks up his own bag, digs out his razor and holds it out as he hops up onto the space Steve just vacated. 

“Me next?” Bucky asks softly, and Steve looks at him like he just gave him the world. 

“Sure, Buck,” Steve replies, and their fingers brush as he takes the razor. He takes the time to kiss Bucky first, soft and open mouthed, tongues tangling briefly before he pulls away. His mouth finds Bucky’s ear, teeth scraping softly across the lobe. “I love you.” 

“Love you,” Bucky repeats immediately, and he means it more than anything he’s ever said. Steve lathers up his face and Bucky doesn’t even close his eyes as Steve drags the razor sharp blade across his skin. 

He knows Steve would never hurt him.

  
  



	37. Chapter 37

The day before Thanksgiving break starts, Steve decides he’s put off his homework long enough. He has packing to do, but that can wait. He gathers everything he’ll need and starts penning a note for Bucky. Of course, that’s when he decides to walk in the door.

“Oh hey,” Steve says, setting down the pen halfway through a crooked heart. “What are you doing here?” 

“My class was cancelled. Professor got a head start on break, apparently,” Bucky says, setting his bag down on his bed and looking over at Steve, noting the camera bag slung over his shoulder. “Going somewhere?” 

“Well, it’s gorgeous outside,” Steve says, glancing towards the window. “I need to do some work on my photo project and I wanted to get to the field before sunset.” 

“The field by our houses?” Bucky inquires, glancing at the clock. “With the wildflowers?” 

“That’s the one,” Steve replies, snapping his fingers. “I need like, vivid colors in nature.” Steve wrinkles his nose. “My theme is gay, apparently.” Bucky chuckles, and Steve smiles.

“Want some company?” Bucky asks, looking up at Steve through gold tipped lashes. Steve grins, fiddling with the strap on his bag. He walks over and slings his arm over Bucky’s shoulders, leaning in to kiss his temple. 

“Sure,” Steve replies, sliding his hand down Bucky’s arm to tangle their fingers together. 

The ride is mostly silent saved for idle chitchat, but it’s not uncomfortable. It takes about an hour for them to get to the field, and Steve blushes slightly when he parks his truck. Last time they were here, it was sweltering hot and they fucked in the back of it, getting sweaty and sunburned. 

“You’re probably going to be bored,” Steve warns him. The sun is still high in the sky, and Steve squints up into it to gauge the light. Bucky hops out of the truck, rubbing a hand through his hair and sticking a cigarette behind his ear. 

“I’ll manage,” Bucky says, plopping down in the middle of some tall grass. “Go take pictures of pretty flowers and butterflies,” he adds, smirking. Steve flips him off and starts unloading his camera bag. He hears the soft click of Bucky’s lighter and he looks around, trying to decide where to start. 

An hour or so passes in which Steve trudges around the field taking macro shots of various wildflowers. He gets one of a blood red ladybug on the vivid yellow petal of a wild sunflower, and he thinks it may be his favorite. 

He turns around to see Bucky, still sitting in the middle of the tall grass, staring off into the distance. His blue shirt contrasts with the bright green of the grass. His hair is windblown and light stubble graces his strong jaw. He doesn’t seem to notice Steve staring, lips a little slack as he zones out. 

Steve crouches forward, dropping to one knee and bringing his camera to his face. He zooms in on Bucky, lips curving up into a grin as he snaps a few shots. He gets a few feet closer before Bucky notices him, eyes widening for a moment before he smiles knowingly. 

“I’m not part of your project,” Bucky says softly, and Steve snaps another shot. 

“You could be,” Steve says, swallowing hard and not daring to lower his camera. “It’s all about colors, and all the blue in the world can’t beat your eyes, Buck.” 

Bucky looks up, and their eyes meet. He’s about ten feet away, but Steve can see his pink cheeks. Steve walks closer to him, getting on his knees when there is only a yard or so separating them. 

“Can I take your picture?” Steve asks softly, and Bucky twists a flower stem between his fingers. 

“You’ve never asked before,” Bucky replies, picking off the petals. They flutter to the ground in a pile of pink on green. 

“I’ve never wanted to so badly before,” he responds, and Bucky looks up at him. He gives a barely perceptible nod. Steve licks his lips and hefts his camera back up to his face, messing with the focus before snapping a few more shots. “Lie on your back.”

Bucky does so, stretching out onto the flattened grass. He turns his head to the side and rests one hand on his stomach, eyelids slipping shut. Steve fills his camera, getting so close he is nearly straddling Bucky. He’s taking close-up shots now – Bucky’s pink lips, soft freckles, sooty eyelashes. Pictures no one else but him will ever see. 

“Open your eyes,” Steve commands gently. Bucky does, pupils dilating slightly from the sunlight. The irises are a familiar shade of steel blue, and he doesn’t blink as the camera clicks. He’s staring up at Steve, chest heaving slightly. Steve sits up a little, reaching down to trace Bucky’s full bottom lip. 

Bucky reaches up to clutch Steve’s wrist in his fingers, sucking in a shuddering breath. The tip of Bucky’s tongue touches the pad of Steve’s finger, and a shiver runs through them both. Steve lifts his camera, snaps a picture of Bucky’s lips puckered around the tip of his finger. Bucky’s eyes go liquid, and Steve sets his camera down in the grass. 

They stare at each other for what seems like hours, Bucky’s fingers digging into the soft skin under Steve’s wrist. Tension is a rubber band between them, stretched tight and shaking for a silent moment before it snaps. 

Steve surges down, crashes his lips against Bucky’s and straddles his waist, pinning Bucky’s wrists against drying grass. Bucky bucks up under him, slotting their hips together and biting down on Steve’s bottom lip. 

Steve moans desperately, letting go of Bucky’s wrists to grab his hips. He grinds down against him, and Bucky lets his head fall back against soft packed earth as he wraps his legs around Steve’s waist. 

Steve bites at Bucky’s chin and jaw and starts rutting against him, pinning his hips to the ground with giant hands. Bucky lets out breathy little noises, gripping Steve’s shoulders as he rolls his hips up to meet Steve’s thrusts. 

He can feel Bucky’s dick, hot like a brand against his thigh. He wants to wrap his hand around it, get it in his mouth, but the sense of urgency is too great. All he can do his thrust down against him, create just enough friction to take him past the point of pleasure. 

They move together like dancing, passionate and familiar. They fit together seamlessly, Steve’s thumbs fitting perfectly in the groove of Bucky’s hips. He sucks and bites at Bucky’s neck, breaking blood vessels with his mouth and licking across bruised flesh as blood rises to the surface. 

Bucky cries out, shoving one hand into Steve’s messy hair and tugging. Steve lets out a low grunt, licking across Bucky’s slack lips before plunging his tongue into Bucky’s willing mouth. 

His muscles tense, pleasure crackling up his spine and it’s been so long since he’s had this. He thumbs Bucky’s nipple through his thin shirt, scraping his nail across the tight nub. He shifts his hips and rocks down harder, pressing his free hand to Bucky’s cheek. 

Bucky arches up, fingernails digging into the strip of skin above Steve’s jeans. He shouts Steve’s name, voice scraped raw. His hips jerk as he comes, and Steve has enough brainpower left to watch Bucky’s face. His eyes are open, pupils blown wide and circled with a thin ring of mossy green.

The sight alone triggers Steve’s climax, and he digs his fingers into Bucky’s hips, gritting out his name. They collapse in a dusty heap, breathing heavily into each other’s necks. 

After a few long moments, Bucky starts laughing. 

Steve is so relieved to hear the sound that it takes a few moments to realize that he should probably be offended. He lifts his head and raises an inquisitive eyebrow. Bucky laughs harder, slapping one hand over his mouth and waving the other in the air. 

“Did we just dry hump in a field?” He finally gets out, chest rumbling with his laughter. Steve grins, shaking the bangs from his eyes. 

“It appears so,” Steve chuckles, sitting up and grabbing his camera. “Let me take a picture of your ‘I just got humped in a field’ expression.”

“Take it and die,” Bucky says, glaring at him. Steve puts his eye to the viewfinder. 

“At least let me get a shot of your sticky jeans,” he jokes, pointing the camera at Bucky’s crotch. Bucky puts his foot on Steve’s chest and pushes him backwards, taking the chance to get up off of the ground. He shakes one leg experimentally. 

“I can’t believe we have to drive an hour home with jizz in our pants,” Bucky whines, and Steve chuckles as he starts to pack up his camera. 

Things are fine until they start driving back. The sun is slipping under the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of indigo, crimson, and gold. It’s gorgeous, and soft, warm light fills the cab of his truck and lights up Bucky’s skin. 

But it’s too quiet. It gives Bucky time to think.

Bucky has been getting lost in his own head lately, shutting himself off from the world – from Steve. It’s like he’s been told something horrible is going to happen, and he’s just preparing himself. Like he has no chance and it’s only a matter of time before it all ends. 

Steve risks a glance out of the corner of his eye only to see Bucky staring straight ahead listlessly. His eyes are clouded over with fear and uncertainty. He’s still too worried about the future to let himself go, to just be happy. He seems convinced Steve is going to break his heart someday, and there is only so much of the insecurity and distrust Steve can take. 

Steve has the patience of a saint when it comes to Bucky, always has. It just feels like the only thing holding them together right now is eighteen years of friendship. Steve literally has no idea how to live without Bucky. He’s never had even a single day where it seemed like a possibility, let alone a likely scenario. He doesn’t know how to be without him.

If they don’t patch up the growing chasm between them, he’ll have to find out. That terrifies him more than anything.

It hurts to know that Bucky is building solid brick walls around his heart, and Steve has no idea how to get past them. At this rate, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get back inside. 

He turns up the radio, presses down harder on the gas, and keeps driving.

  
  



	38. Chapter 38

Bucky is in sort of an awkward position when Steve comes back from his last class on Friday.

He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with his arms stretched over his head. Peter is standing behind him, pressing his knee between his shoulder blades and stretching his arms upward. 

“Uh,” Steve says, raising one eyebrow. Bucky just stares ahead with a weird mixture of annoyance and concentration on his face. “Should I even ask?”

“Peter is aligning my chakra,” Bucky says, not sounding particularly happy about it. Peter pushes his body down until he’s folded nearly in half, forehead brushing the floor. 

“Stretch your arms out in front of you,” Peter says, and he does. He lets out a harsh sigh. “That’s right. Take deep, cleansing breaths.” Bucky rolls his eyes. 

“Okay,” Steve replies slowly. “But why?” 

“My aura was murky,” Bucky says, and yelps when Peter kicks him in the ass. 

“I did not say your aura was murky,” Peter replies. “I said you looked really tense and that this would help you relax.” 

“God knows he needs it,” Steve mumbles, and Bucky nearly flinches. He’s well aware that he’s been trying Steve’s usually unlimited patience. 

“Peter is like one bad day away from becoming an axe wielding murderer,” Bucky says, shifting and stretching even farther forward. He actually can feel himself loosening up a little, and he presses his forehead firmly against the floor, knees on either side of his ribs. “I figured if it can help him calm down, it’d be worth a try.” 

“Yoga is the reason I’m not an axe wielding murderer,” Peter says calmly, pressing his hands against the small of Bucky’s back and pressing down. He can hear bones pop and it feels awesome. 

“The scary part is that I have no idea if you’re kidding,” Steve replies, and Bucky twists his head so he can see Steve. He’s staring at them with a slightly annoyed grimace, and Bucky figures it’s probably time to get Peter’s hands off of him and unfold himself out of a pretzel. 

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Peter replies stoically, sliding his hands up to Bucky’s shoulders and pulling him into a sitting position. Bucky rolls his shoulders and sighs. 

“It never looks like you’re kidding,” Steve retorts. “Your face is like stone.” 

“Oh,” Peter says, pressing his thumbs into the hollows behind Bucky’s ears and making him groan. “I was kidding.” 

“Good to know,” Steve says. Peter pats his shoulders once and steps away from him. Bucky gets up and dusts off his knees before going over to Steve and giving him a soft kiss on the mouth. Steve exhales and presses a kiss to Bucky’s eyebrow. 

“You guys are leaving, right?” Peter asks. “I might as well check you out while I’m here.” 

“I’m ready to go,” Steve says, throwing his backpack on top of the small duffle at the foot of his bed. He looks at Bucky, and his eyes are cool. “Are we taking separate cars?” 

“No,” Bucky says, eyebrows bunching in confusion. “Why would we?” 

“I don’t know. We never talked about it, so I just assumed.” Steve replies, and Bucky reaches out to curl his hand around Steve’s hip, thumb skittering across bone. He hates knowing Steve is upset, hates himself for being the cause. But he just can’t help it right now. His heart is much too fragile to let anyone handle, even Steve. Especially Steve. 

“If you want to, we can,” Bucky says uncertainly. “Or I can drive.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Steve replies, reaching forward to grip the waistband of Bucky’s jeans. Bucky kisses him softly and wishes it wasn’t so obvious that he was holding back. 

“Hate to break up the lovefest, but I’ve got a whole fucking floor of kids to check out,” Peter says, raising an eyebrow. “So if we could get the show on the road?” 

Bucky turns around and meets Peter’s amused gaze. Steve’s fingers skim the thin skin of his hips and Bucky wishes he ran hot instead of cold at the sensation.

It takes them longer than usual to get home due to the Friday evening traffic.

Bucky taps out a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel as he turns into their neighborhood, biting his lip and glancing at Steve out of the corner of his eye. He’s slumped against the door, staring absently out the window.

Steve’s usual exuberance has dimmed considerably, and Bucky knows he’s at fault. 

“Do you want to come in and say hi to my mom?” Bucky says as he pulls onto his street and spots his mother’s car in the driveway. “And then I’ll take you home?”

“Sure,” Steve says, sitting up and pressing his palms into his eye sockets. He looks tired and irritated. After what happened in the field the day before, Bucky had closed off even more, and he doesn’t even know why.

Bucky thinks this break will be good for them. He can spend some time in his own home with his family, and he can decompress. Recharge. Then everything will be fine. Hopefully. 

But, of course Bucky knows what they say about best laid plans. 

When they walk into Bucky’s living room, Winnie jumps up off of the couch and pulls Bucky into a tight hug. All the breath escapes his lungs in a loud whoosh and he hugs her back. 

“Mom,” he pants, shooting Steve a look. “Can’t breathe. Ribs cracking.”

“Sorry,” she says, pulling back. That’s when Bucky notices how upset she looks, eyes bright and lips pressed into a firm line. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks, tilting his head to the side. Winnie runs her hand through her hair and gives Bucky a sorrowful look. 

“Buck, your grandparents are coming tonight, for Thanksgiving,” she says, voice full of regret. Bucky blinks a few times, confused. 

“That’s a good thing, mom,” he replies, patting her shoulder. “I talked to grandma on the phone a few weeks ago and she didn’t mention it.” 

“Not – not my parents,” she says, sucking in a breath. “Your dad’s.” 

Bucky drops his hand and blinks, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He swallows the sour taste in his mouth and nods. He feels Steve’s hand on his shoulder immediately, and Bucky unconsciously steps back towards him.

“Oh,” is all he can manage to say. 

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Winnie says, looking devastated. “It was so last minute. I tried to convince them to go to your uncle’s house, but they insisted. They haven’t seen George and the kids in years – “ 

“The straight kids,” Bucky says flatly, feeling oddly cold despite the warmth in the room. “Not me.” 

“I’m sorry,” she says again. “You know I don’t want them here, baby. Not after what they did to you.” 

“Mom, it’s okay,” Bucky says, offering a wan smile. He can feel Steve’s hand, warm and strong between his shoulder blades. “They’re still a part of the family, as much as they wish I wasn’t.” 

Winnie looks like she’s about to cry, and that upsets Bucky more than anything. 

“Mom, please don’t be upset,” he pleads. “This isn’t your fault.” 

“I already talked to Sarah,” she says, steamrolling right over Bucky’s attempts to make her feel better. “She said that you can stay there. I don’t want to kick you out of your own house, baby. But I think it's best. Your father went to go pick them up from the airport.” 

“Sure,” Bucky replies, shifting his weight a little. “That’s fine.” 

“I’m so sorry,” she says again. “I want you to be with family, Bucky.” 

“He will be with family, mom,” Steve tells her, and it’s the first thing he’s said since they arrived. He slides his fingers into Bucky’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp. Bucky instantly feels grounded, soothed. “We’re his family, too.” 

Bucky is now even more grateful Steve agreed not to tell their parents about their fight. Winnie doesn’t need another thing to worry about, not with Bucky’s absurdly homophobic grandparents coming to town. They completely disowned him when he came out – cut him out of their lives like he was never there to begin with. 

He’s had nearly three years to get over it. It didn’t take him long to realize that with so many people that love him for who he is, two people refusing to doesn’t really matter in the long run. But still, he can’t stop the sting he feels when Ben and Becca get birthday cards and Christmas presents and he doesn’t. 

Ben and Becca never open them, though. They refuse to, trying to support Bucky in any way they can. Bucky still doesn’t know how to thank them for that. He can’t imagine either of his siblings will be pleased by their presence. 

“I know you are,” Winnie says, breaking Bucky from his thoughts. “You’ll take good care of him.” 

“Always do,” Steve says, slinging his arm around Bucky’s waist. Bucky melts against him – can’t help but remember how Steve was there for him during the fallout, when his grandpa that taught him how to ride horses down in Texas told him no grandson of his would be a filthy little faggot. 

The amount of love he has for Steve still surprises him sometimes, especially when he realizes how far back it really goes. 

“We’re gonna go,” Bucky says suddenly, wanting to get out of the house before they get there. He pulls himself out of Steve’s casual embrace and hugs his mother, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “Don’t be sad, okay? I’m not sad over it anymore. I’m just gonna miss you guys.” 

“I hate this,” Winnie says, pulling back to look at him. “You should be here. Not them.”

“I’ll be right up the street,” Bucky promises. “With plenty of people that love me.” 

“Okay,” Winnie says, but she still doesn’t look happy about it. She pushes his hair back and kisses his forehead. She hugs Steve then, stretching up on her toes to get her arms around his neck. “You two be good.” 

Bucky gives her a comforting smile as they leave. He’s quiet as they walk back to his car, and he doesn’t even realize he’s staring up at his bedroom window until Steve puts a hand on his thigh. 

“You okay, Buck?” Steve asks, and Bucky turns to meet his concerned gaze. Bucky manages a small smile and nods. “Don’t think about them, okay?” 

“Forgotten,” Bucky replies. Steve bites his lip and looks down slightly. 

“I hope you don’t mind staying with me,” he says, and the uncertainty in his voice breaks Bucky’s heart a little.

“Of course I don’t,” Bucky says. He takes Steve’s hand in his own, squeezing it gently. “I don’t know if I ever thanked you. For, you know – being there for me back then. It wasn’t the easiest time of my life.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve says simply, and Bucky leans in to press their lips together. He almost wishes his grandparents could see them now. 

Fuck them both for thinking that a love like this could be wrong.

Steve fidgets as they enter his house. Whereas Bucky’s was empty with the exception of Winnie, his is buzzing.

Becca and Evelyn bombard them as soon as they walk in the door, nearly taking Steve to the floor. Then the dog actually does take him to the floor, giant paws on his chest as he licks the crap out of Steve. 

“Whoa, boy,” Bucky laughs, pulling the excited lab off of Steve’s chest. 

“I still can’t freaking believe you waited until I moved out to quit being a baby about allergy shots,” Steve says to Evelyn, reaching up to scratch Rowdy Rogers behind the ears. “Do you know how badly I wanted a dog?” 

“Well, mom didn’t want to have to take care of two overactive puppies,” Evelyn teases, and Steve sticks his tongue out at her. Sarah comes out of the kitchen and steps over Steve to hug Bucky, startling him by it. 

“So you’re staying with us?” Sarah asks when she pulls away, and Bucky pretends he can’t see the pity in her eyes. 

“Yes,” Bucky replies. “I’m going to require turndown service, breakfast in bed, and a twelve noon wake up call.”

“Right,” Sarah laughs. Steve picks himself up off of the floor. “You’re not a guest in this house, James Buchanan.”

“Oh, I feel so welcome,” Bucky says dryly, but he smiles at her in thanks. 

“I know Bucky is prettier than me,” Steve says from behind his mother. “But could I possibly get a hug too?” 

“I suppose,” Sarah says, pulling Steve into her arms. “We get the boisterous boys for a whole week!”

“Alliteration,” Steve says, voice muffled in his mother’s shoulder. “Nice.” 

“Hey Borky,” Bucky says, pulling his sister into a headlock. “Can you go home and be with mom, please?” 

“I don’t want to be there with them,” Becssays, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Bucky pulls on her ponytail and then rubs her back. 

“I know, kid,” Bucky says, sharing a sad look with Steve. “But it’s not her fault. And I’m fine, okay? Don’t worry about it.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Evelyn pipes up, coming to stand at her best friend’s side. “We’ll gay make out in front of them.”

“Please don’t gay make out in front of the geriatric Texans,” Bucky says, pushing them both towards the door. 

“Fine, but I’m totally blasting Katy Perry,” Becca says, shaking her hips a little. Bucky just rolls his eyes. 

“Go.”

The next day, all the boys decide to be awesome big brothers and take their little sisters to the mall – for reasons completely unknown to them.

The mall on a Saturday afternoon just may be Bucky’s least favorite place in the world, but he prides himself on being an amazing big brother. So he follows Becs and Evelyn into whatever store they want while the other guys pull the douchebag card and hang out in the food court. 

Bucky buys them each something sparkly and shiny from Claire’s, and then steers them in the general direction of Wetzel’s Pretzels. He drops down next to Steve with a tired groan and leans over to steal a pretzel bit from the tray in front of him. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” Evelyn says, and flicks Steve in the ear as she sits down. Steve jumps and rubs at the side of his head. 

“Bucky is a better brother than me,” Steve says simply. “I thought that had been firmly established.” 

“Bucky is a better brother than all of you,” Becs retorts, pulling her hairclip out of the purple Claire’s bag and shoving it into her hair. 

“Combined,” Evelyn adds, leaning over to fiddle with it. 

“Ouch,” Ben says, wincing and putting his hand over his heart.

“Meh. I can live with it,” Garrett says, dipping a pretzel bit in mustard before shoving it into his mouth. “Bucky’s practically perfect in every way.” 

“I will shove my perfect foot up your ass,” Bucky says menacingly.

“Whoa, wouldn’t wanna make Steve jealous,” Garrett replies, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly chokes on a bite of pretzel. 

“You’re so disgusting!” Evelyn shrieks, throwing a balled up napkin at Garrett’s face. “You guys don’t really do that, do you?” 

“Eve!” Steve shouts, and Bucky buries his face in his hands. 

“Anyway,” Bucky says once he comes back up for air. “How are things at the homestead?” 

“Oh god, dude,” Ben moans. “You are so lucky you were disowned.”

“Wow Ben,” Becca scoffs, glaring at her oldest brother. “Be less sensitive. I dare you.” 

“What? It’s true!” Ben exclaims. “They suck. They keep saying how I should come work on the ranch this summer. Because yeah, that’s how I want to spend my last summer before grad school. Working on a fucking ranch in Texas and staying with my bigoted grandparents? Yeah, no thanks.”

“They asked me to come visit too!” Becs adds, rolling her eyes. “Like I wanna hang out with cowboy hicks chewing tobacco and bull riding. I told them that I couldn’t because you and your boyfriend were taking me up to San Francisco for the Gay Pride parade.” 

“You think she’s kidding but she’s totally not!” Ben laughs, slamming his fist down on the table. “She said it right there at the dinner table. I thought grandpa’s head was going to explode. Funniest fucking shit I’ve seen in my life, dude.” 

“Okay, one,” Bucky says, cutting Becca a look. “You and I need to have a talk about stereotypes. And two, don’t start shit with them, okay? And there is no way I’m taking you to Pride.” 

“Fine!” Becs shouts, pouting and slumping back in her chair. Steve lets out a soft snort of laughter, but his smile droops as he looks over Bucky’s shoulder. His eyes widen slightly and Bucky whips his head around to see what has him so flustered.

Peggy Carter, the other half of Steve’s most serious relationship before Bucky, is making her way towards them with a surprised smile on her face. Bucky feels his stomach drop. 

They haven’t seen or heard from Peggy since the summer after she broke up with Steve, as she was a senior and headed off to Columbia a few weeks afterwards. She earned herself a permanent spot on the list of people Bucky would rather never see again, so of course she would randomly appear now, when the tension between he and Steve is so thick he feels like he’s drowning in it. 

“Wow, hey!” She says once she reaches them. She looks great, brown eyes vibrant against pale skin and red lipstick. Steve, being who he is, gets up to hug her. It’s not a comfortable embrace, and he tries to hide his stricken expression when she kisses him on the cheek. Bucky’s eyes narrow and Steve looks so nervous that Bucky tries to push all lingering animosity aside. 

“Hi Bucky!” She chirps, reaching out to pat his shoulder. Bucky blinks. Never once in high school did she greet him so fondly. It throws him off guard. “It’s really good to see you,” she says with a genuine smile, nodding towards everyone else at the table. Steve sits back down next to Bucky, scooting his chair as close as he can. She smiles fondly at them, head tipping to one side as her brown hair cascades over one shoulder.

“I heard the news,” she says, waving manicured fingers at them. “Congrats!” 

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies uneasily, sharing a look with Bucky. He takes Bucky’s hand, squeezes tightly like he thinks Bucky will shake him off. She looks happy, and Bucky wonders whatever happened to the spiteful ice queen he went to school with. “Six months and counting.” 

“You mean to tell me it still took a year after I dumped you for being in love with Bucky to realize that you actually were in love with him?” Peggy asks, smirking. There’s no malice in her voice, just playful teasing. Bucky’s eyes widen slightly and he blinks. He wasn’t aware that he was the reason she broke up with him. “Jeez, Steve. I never would have pegged you as dense.” 

“You could have told me that’s why you were dumping me,” Steve replies, and Peggy chuckles softly. 

“Yeah, well, I was sort of bitter at the time,” she admits, smiling apologetically at Bucky. He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy counting back the days in his head, realizing with a pang that they were broken up on their six month anniversary. He squeezes Steve’s hand tighter. “It took me awhile to realize that you can’t fight fate. And you definitely can’t fake chemistry. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but I have no problem doing it now. You two belong together.” 

“Look at you, getting all deep in the food court,” Steve says, slinging his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and pulling him back against his body. Bucky looks up at her and for the first time in his memory, he gives her a warm smile. 

Peggy just gives them a nod and walks over to Becca and Evelyn, who are busy eyeing her shopping bags with interest. “Hey girls, long time no see,” she says brightly. “I was just heading for Sephora if you wanna come with me?” 

“Totally!” They shout in unison, getting up to follow her. Steve tells them to keep their phones on, and says goodbye to Peggy, fingers digging into Bucky’s chest. 

“Why do I remember her being such a raving bitch?” Garrett asks once they leave, licking mustard from his lips. 

“She’s calmed down a lot,” Steve says, resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. He does his best to relax into Steve’s embrace.

“Huh,” Garrett responds, and then turns to face Ben. “So what’s up with you and Natasha? She let you touch her goodies yet?” 

“Dude, we’ve only been on two dates,” Ben says, giving Garrett a scandalous look. Garrett just rolls his eyes. 

“That’s two dates longer than it usually takes you to get a girl in bed,” replies Garrett. 

“Natasha’s not that kind of girl,” Bucky pipes up. “And don’t talk about her goodies, asshole.”

“It’s different with her,” Ben says softly, and Bucky is surprised to see a blush rise on his cheeks. Ben starts talking about their last date, and Bucky knows he should listen but he can’t help but let his mind wander. 

He looks down at Steve’s hand, warm and firm against his chest. People keep throwing around all these words that are supposed to describe them – fate, destiny, meant to be. 

If that’s true, shouldn’t it be easy? If they really are fated to be together, why is he so scared?

He leans forward and places his elbows on the table, skin tingling where Steve’s hand had been. He doesn’t think he could survive losing Steve, but he can’t seem to stop pushing him away.

Steve doesn’t see much of Bucky on Sunday.

He leaves in the morning, before Steve even wakes up, for a lacrosse game that he and a few of the guys from his old team have been planning since October. Under normal circumstances, Steve would have gone with him, would have sat on the sidelines and watched Bucky while bemoaning his own lack of coordination. But he doesn’t bother. When he wakes up, he can’t even muster the energy to be disappointed that Bucky didn’t rouse him for a goodbye kiss. 

He lazes around for a good chunk of the morning, eating cereal and watching cartoons with Evelyn. He takes Rowdy for a long, proper run. He hasn’t gone on one for a while, and it feels good to get his blood pumping. His shirt gets soaked with sweat quickly, even in the crisp air. His legs burn but he pushes himself on, feels the tension and stress leave him with every quick breath. 

Rowdy barks once they near the park where the lacrosse game is going on and Steve slows to a jog. He spots Bucky quickly, since he’s wearing his old team jersey. He’s playing hard, knocking into other players and getting thrown to the ground twice in the short amount of time Steve watches. He’s pushing himself too hard, taking out all his aggression on the game.

Steve just takes a deep breath and tugs on Rowdy’s leash, leading him in the opposite direction.

By the time Bucky returns, Steve is already showered and dressed, lounging in his room and surfing the net on his laptop. He looks up when Bucky enters the room. He’s sweaty and red in the face, chest still heaving with exertion. His hair is messy, sticking up in damp spikes and his skin is streaked with sweat and dirt. 

“Hey,” Bucky says, and pulls his shirt off. He sniffs it, nose wrinkling before he tosses it in the corner of the room. Steve’s dick stirs inexplicably in his shorts. 

“Hi,” Steve replies, eyes immediately drifting to Bucky’s trim waist. The slight cut of muscle gleams from the thin sheen of sweat on his body, and Steve bites his lip at the sight of Bucky’s fingers unconsciously trailing across his tattoo. His eyes flick upward and he sees Bucky staring at him, eyes gone liquid. Steve rolls off of the bed, brushing by Bucky and swallowing hard as he takes off downstairs. He pauses at the base of them, holding his breath until he hears the shower start.

His dad is putting on his coat, and Steve goes with him to get the oil changed in his car just to have an excuse to get out of the house. 

They’re gone for hours, hitting the grocery store when his mom calls them with a list. It’s dark by the time they get back, and Bucky is nowhere to be found. 

Steve has never been so uncomfortable in his own skin. Ever since he can remember, since the day he was born, Bucky has been there. He’s been Steve’s anchor, his shoulder to cry on, his someone to lean on. He’s balanced Steve out and there was no problem he couldn’t handle with Bucky at his side. 

But now the problem is Bucky, and Steve is floundering. He’s treading water, and he doesn’t think he can keep his head above for much longer. Something has to give. 

When he calls Bucky’s cell it rings loud and shrill on Steve’s nightstand and he heaves a sigh. He pulls on his jacket and goes downstairs, finding his mother in the kitchen.

“Hey mom,” he greets her, biting on his bottom lip. “Do you know where Bucky went?” 

“I don’t,” she replies. “He just said he was going for a walk.” She regards him for a moment, brows knitted in concern. “Are you boys okay?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve says, and the truth of that statement is like a punch to the gut. “I’m gonna go find him.”

He turns away from his mother before her eyes can go sympathetic, and he ventures out into the cool night air.

It’s not hard to find Bucky once he goes missing, not in his current mindset. 

It’s cold enough outside that he zips his jacket up all the way and wishes he had put something more substantial than flip-flops on his feet. In the short amount of time it takes him to walk to the park, he works himself into a quiet panic. Bucky has been incredibly distant since they got back together, retreating further into himself each day. He told himself he would give Bucky time, that he would wait as long as it took for things to go back to normal. But it’s been even worse since they’ve been home. He knows a lot of that has to do with the fact that he can’t even go home and see his family because of his homophobic grandparents, but a big part of it is the awkwardness between them that hasn’t quite dissipated yet. 

Not knowing where he stands with Bucky makes him feel horrible, like he can’t possibly relax. He’s terrified the feeling will never go away. 

Being with Bucky is supposed to be easy. They were meant for each other. Why should it be so difficult? More importantly, why the fuck can’t Bucky just suck it up and get the hell over whatever it is that’s bothering him? Steve hasn’t done anything wrong, and he’s starting to get really sick of feeling like he’s being punished. 

Bucky is at the park, just as Steve expected. He is sitting on a swing, the chains squeaking slightly as he idly pushes himself back and forth, toes dragging in the damp sand. The orange tip of his lit cigarette glows brightly against the dark sky. Steve is inexplicably nervous as he approaches, suddenly unsure if Bucky even wants to see him. That’s not a question he’s ever had to ask himself before and it’s sort of hard to swallow. 

He settles to a stop a few feet in front of Bucky, clearing his throat quietly. Bucky looks up at him, resting his temple on his fist where it’s curled around the chain of the swing. He looks exhausted, stressed out, fed up, but he still gives Steve a tiny smile. It makes Steve feel a little better; even if it’s a poor facsimile of Bucky’s usual grin. 

“Hi,” Steve says quietly, hating how tense this feels. They made up. They’re supposed to be fine, but it doesn’t feel like they are. Bucky doesn’t say anything, just nods and takes another deep drag of his cigarette. Steve watches as he tips his head back and blows smoke into the sky, watches the curve of his neck and the purse of his lips. The silence becomes too much for Steve to bear. The lump in his throat grows and he tries to swallow it down. “Um, I’m gonna – I’ll see you at the house, I guess.” 

“Steve, wait,” Bucky says once Steve starts to turn around. He looks back at Bucky, who offers him a little smile and gestures towards the swing next to him. Steve takes a deep breath and sits down on it, fingers curled in a death grip around the chains. Bucky nods and takes another drag. Steve is reminded of countless trips to this very park, back when they were kids and nothing mattered. The last time they were here was just a few short weeks ago, when they couldn’t fall asleep without a goodnight kiss. Steve would give anything to go back to that. 

“You’ve been walking on eggshells around me,” Bucky says sadly, flicking his ashes to the sand below. Steve shrugs one shoulder and runs his hand through his hair. 

“I feel like I have to,” he replies honestly, and Bucky nods. 

“You shouldn’t,” he says, rolling the butt of his smoke between his finger and thumb. A few tiny embers fall onto the frayed knee of his jeans and he brushes them away. 

“I know.” There’s silence after that. Bucky opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s psyching himself up to say something. 

“I’ve just been thinking,” Bucky says finally, digging the toe of his shoe into the sand. Steve’s heart leaps into his throat. “About growing up, and changing. Things change, right?” 

“Not us,” Steve says, voice soft and desperate. “Not this.” 

“You sure about that?” Bucky asks, smiling ruefully. Steve feels tears prickle behind his eyes and he’s ready to get down on his knees, grovel and beg Bucky not to end this. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Steve replies fervently, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch Bucky, to kiss him and make him understand. “Look, Bucky. I know I fucked up.”

“You didn’t,” Bucky says, furrowing his brow as he flicks the ashes off of the end of his cigarette. “She did.” 

“Well, yeah,” Steve says, “but I never should have let her in our room. I never should have started that fight with you in the first place.” 

“I don’t want to talk about that shit anymore,” Bucky says, stubbing his cigarette out in the sand and immediately lighting another one. Steve wants to tell him to slow down, to quit, but there’s a time and a place and it isn’t now. “I want to put it behind us.” 

“Me too,” Steve responds quickly, eyes shining as he watches Bucky. He’s devastatingly gorgeous out here in the moonlight, and Steve wonders if there will ever be a day when the sight of Bucky doesn’t take his breath away. He doubts it.

“You told me once you’d never outgrow me,” Bucky says, voice cracking slightly, and Steve’s heart breaks a little. “Do you remember that?”

“I remember,” Steve replies softly, thinking of that sleepy conversation in the car, lost somewhere in the middle of a long stretch of highway. They’d talked of growing up. Bucky takes another deep drag of his cigarette. 

“Do you promise?” Bucky whispers, throat working as he opens his eyes. 

Bucky finally looks over at Steve, eyes glinting in the dim light of the moon. Steve scrambles off of his swing, nearly slipping in the sand as he comes to stand in front of Bucky, to grip him by the arms and pull him up. Bucky drops his cigarette without even taking a drag, and Steve crushes it into the sand. 

“I promise,” Steve says, cupping Bucky’s cheeks, swiping his thumbs under Bucky’s eyes. “I swear to you that no matter how much I change, I will always need you. There will never be a day that I’m not in love with you, Bucky. Not in this life or any other. I swear.”

“I believe you,” Bucky says, a tear rolling down his cheek. Steve quickly wipes it away as he lets out a soft sob in relief. That one sentence packs a punch, sounds less like I believe you and more like I believe in you, in this, in us. Forever. “I love you so much.” 

Steve can hardly breathe, he’s so happy. He presses his lips to Bucky’s in a soft kiss, wrapping his arms tight around him. Bucky instantly looks more alive, like an enormous weight has been lifted from his shoulders. His eyes are bright and he finally smiles.

“I love you too,” he says, pressing a kiss to the bridge of Bucky’s nose and underneath each eye. “We’re gonna be okay?” 

“Yes.” Bucky nods, lips curving into a smile against Steve’s neck. 

“You’re gonna stick around?” Steve whispers into his hair, hands coming to rest flat against the small of Bucky’s back. 

“As long as you’ll have me,” Bucky says, the words sending a rush of warmth through Steve. He pulls back and looks into Bucky’s eyes, thrilled by the life he sees in them. 

“So, forever then,” Steve states plainly. He’s never been more sure of anything, not in his entire life. 

Bucky blinks and grins, bright and radiant. It’s the grin Steve has been longing for, the one that makes his knees go weak and his heart thump in his chest. 

“I can live with that.”

Bucky feels giddy. He can’t stop laughing as Steve walks them backwards across the playground, little happy noises bubbling out of his lips before he can stop them. He doesn’t  want to stop them.

They keep trying to kiss and walk at the same time, and they keep stepping on each other’s toes and nearly falling over. Steve finally just slips his hands down to Bucky’s ass and hoists him up, grunting with the effort as he carries him towards the slide. Bucky kisses his neck, slides his hands along the muscles bunching in his forearms and biceps. He loves that Steve is strong enough to carry him, to hold him up. 

Steve sets Bucky down on the end of the slide and climbs on top of him, knees bracketing Bucky’s hips and pinning him to the bright orange fiberglass. Bucky lies back, hissing at the sting of cold plastic against his skin. He doesn’t have much time to feel the chill, because Steve covers his body like a blanket, long fingers buried in his hair as he presses their mouths back together. 

Bucky lets out a tiny whimper, hands sliding down Steve’s flanks to rest on his narrow hips, thumbs finding their way under his thin tee. 

He doesn’t know why he was so stupid, why he let himself think this could never last. It’s obvious by the way Steve looks at him, pure love and devotion in his eyes, that what they have is forever. He can’t believe he caused Steve so much unnecessary pain. 

“Stevie, I’m sorry,” he pants, but Steve just silences him with a bruising kiss. Bucky keeps his eyes open for a moment, until they cross and Steve is nothing but a blur. Then he lets his eyes slip shut and he goes pliant in Steve’s arms, slides his hands under Steve’s tee shirt and up his back. 

He doesn’t need to apologize with words. He can say everything he wants to with his hands, with his lips. And he knows Steve will understand. 

He arches up into Steve, sucks Steve’s tongue into his mouth and hooks his hands over Steve’s shoulders. Steve shivers slightly, and Bucky isn’t sure if it’s because of the cool night air hitting his bare skin or if it’s due to Bucky himself. 

They kiss until their lungs ache for air and they pull away panting. Steve dips his head to press his mouth to Bucky’s neck, sucking and biting along the column of his throat. He feels his dick start to stir in his jeans, all the blood in his body rushing south fast enough to make his head spin. 

“Love you,” Bucky pants, groaning when Steve nibbles on his sensitive earlobe. “Oh god, I missed you.” 

Steve kisses his mouth again, and Bucky slides his hands down to Steve’s ass and pulls down at the same moment he arches up, making their hips come together. Steve moans into his mouth, hissing as he thrusts his hips downward into Bucky’s. His dick is a hot, hard line against Bucky’s belly and he boldly reaches down between them to cup him through his pants. 

“Shit,” Steve grunts, tensing and biting down on Bucky’s bottom lip before he lifts his head to look down at him. Steve’s eyes are shining in the moonlight, hands strong and sure on Bucky’s hips, and Bucky suddenly wants nothing more than to have Steve naked with him, skin to skin as Steve pushes in and fills him up. 

He nearly cries out in relief at the feeling, the relief of knowing that he isn’t broken, that there isn’t anything wrong with him and Steve loves him, will always love him and nothing will ever change that. 

Bucky slides his thumb along the hard ridge of Steve’s dick and watches Steve lick his lips with rapt fascination. 

“I don’t want you to fuck me,” Bucky rasps, and nearly grins when Steve tries to hide his disappointed groan, “but making love is such a fucking corny term.” 

He watches realization dawn on Steve’s gorgeous face, his cheeks dimpling with a vibrant grin. 

“Really?” Steve asks, and Bucky laughs, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. He slides his arms around Steve’s waist and kisses him softly, tongue teasing at his bottom lip before he pulls away. 

“Really.” Steve kisses him again and gets up, pulling on Bucky’s hips and nearly dragging him off of the end of the slide. 

“Oh, I’ll make love to you,” Steve promises, and Bucky laughs gleefully as he gets up. Steve takes his hand and starts walking in the direction of his house. “I’ll make love to you so good, baby.” 

“You will, huh?” Bucky asks, face splitting with a grin as Steve pulls him down the street. Steve tangles their fingers together and squeezes. 

“I will light candles if you want, Buck.” Bucky laughs again and Steve pushes him up against a light post, leaning in close. The light casts a halo around his head, makes his skin glow. Bucky reaches up to cup his cheek and pulls him in, fastening their mouths together again. This kiss is hungrier, more desperate and urgent. Bucky slides his knee between Steve’s thighs and pushes up, not caring that they’re out in the open, rutting against each other in the middle of a peaceful street in suburbia. Steve sucks gently on his tongue and Bucky lets out a low moan, nipping Steve’s bottom lip when he rolls his hips against Bucky’s thigh. 

The sudden blare of a car horn and the whoops and hollers of its passengers break them apart, causing Bucky to hit his head on the metal light pole. They stare at each other and laugh breathlessly, Steve’s fingers coming up to cup the back of Bucky’s skull before he does anymore damage. 

“We should probably get inside,” Steve says, his cheeks flushed pink with pleasure. Bucky nods, his fingers skimming down the side of Steve’s neck like he can’t help but touch. Steve takes his hand again and they walk towards his house at a leisurely pace, but there is an urgency in their steps that they can’t deny. 

When they burst through Steve’s front door, everyone’s heads pop up and Bucky freezes. He somehow forgot that Steve’s entire family was home.

“Uh, hey,” Steve says, squeezing Bucky’s hand and heading for the stairs, trying to look casual. 

“Hey boys!” Sarah replies. “We were just trying to decide what to do for dinner.”

“We’re not hungry,” Steve says quickly, perching on the base of the stairs and keeping a death grip on Bucky’s sweaty hand.

“How are you not hungry?” Garrett asks, and Bucky squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I’m just not,” Steve grits out. Garrett stares at them and his eyes widen slightly, and then he grins, soft and fond. 

“Oh,” he says knowingly, and then turns to face the rest of his perplexed family. “Mom, you have to cook that huge meal soon. So why don’t we just hit Olive Garden?”

“Taste of Italy! Sounds great!” Steve replies, dragging Bucky up the stairs. “Bring me some breadsticks.”

Bucky laughs as Steve pulls him into his room and shuts the door, curling one giant hand around the spur of Bucky’s hip. He pulls Bucky towards his bed, grinning against his lips as he leans in for a clumsy kiss. After pushing Bucky down onto the bed, he heads over to his stereo and puts on some music, something soft but heavy enough to cover any noise. 

“Subtle,” Bucky says, raising an eyebrow and sitting up on his knees. 

“They’re gonna know what we’re doing anyway,” Steve says, flicking off the lights and pulling off his shirt. Bucky’s eyes land on his bare torso as he throws the garment to the floor. “I’d rather them hear the music than us.”

“True,” Bucky mumbles, quickly stripping off his pants and shirt while Steve kicks off his jeans. Soon they’re both left only in their underwear, and Bucky licks his lips as Steve approaches. Steve lets out a playful growl and tackles Bucky to the mattress, causing him to let out a little yelp. 

It breaks the tension, and Bucky lets out a soft laugh as Steve props himself up over him. He trails his fingers up Steve’s arms, slides them into his shaggy hair and just drinks in his fill. Steve looks down at him with a soft, loving gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. Bucky reaches up to stroke his fingertip across them as Steve lowers himself. Their bare chests brush and Bucky’s mouth goes slack. Steve presses their mouths together, soft and sure.

It makes something break in Bucky, and he squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around Steve and kissing him desperately. Steve gathers him up in his arms, letting out a soft moan as Bucky licks into his mouth.

Bucky wraps a leg around Steve’s hips, letting out soft whimpering moans into Steve’s mouth as they rock together. Steve finally pulls away once Bucky is nearly dizzy and his lips are numb and swollen. Steve grins at him with pink lips, chest heaving with breath. Bucky slides his hands down Steve’s back, tipping his head back when Steve trails soft, slick lips down his neck. After a light nip at his collarbone, Steve keeps moving down, pausing to curl his wet tongue around a nipple. 

Bucky hisses and arches up, fingers unintentionally tugging at Steve’s hair. Steve lets out a soft chuckle that tickles Bucky’s oversensitive skin and untangles Bucky’s fingers from his mop of hair, threading their fingers together and pressing their joined hands against the mattress. 

Steve trails his tongue down the center of Bucky’s stomach, and Bucky can do little more than collapse against the bed and get lost in the sensation of being with Steve again, being in Steve’s arms and having his mouth on him. It leaves him breathless and wanting more.

Steve traces Bucky’s navel with his tongue before dipping it inside, fingers curling around the waistband of Bucky’s briefs. Bucky sucks in a deep breath, keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he wordlessly lifts his hips. Steve presses a soft kiss low on Bucky’s belly, and his muscles tense and quiver against Steve’s mouth as he slowly pulls off Bucky’s underwear. 

Steve’s fingers trail down Bucky’s legs and Bucky feels his cheeks heating up when Steve kisses the arch of his foot as he tosses the briefs aside. It feels like their first time all over again. Bucky is so nervous that his stomach is in knots and his heart is pounding in his ribcage, but just like the first time he knows he’s never wanted anything more than this. 

Steve gently pushes Bucky’s thighs apart and lays his forearm across Bucky’s hips. His intention is obvious, that much is clear by the way he slides his tongue through the groove of Bucky’s hip. Bucky lifts his head, ready to open his mouth to protest but he doesn’t get that far before Steve’s hot, wet mouth descends on him. 

The sudden pressure and suction is nearly too much for Bucky to take. Heat spirals up his spine and his lips part around a loud moan. Steve sucks him eagerly, tongue teasing under the head as his long fingers wrap around the shaft. Bucky is nearly driven out of his mind with the pleasure and he bucks up against Steve’s mouth, cupping Steve’s face in his hands. He swipes his thumbs across Steve’s hollowed out cheeks and then traces his lower lip, stretched wide around Bucky’s dick. 

“Steve,” he gasps, pulling back from his mouth once he feels the telltale tingling at the base of his spine. He doesn’t want to come like this. He wants Steve buried deep inside him, wants to look into his eyes and have access to his gorgeous mouth. “Stop, Stevie.”

Steve pulls off with an obscene pop, back arching as he looks up at Bucky with glittering eyes. Bucky bites his lip and jerks his head back, gesturing Steve toward him. Steve grins and surges forward, pressing their mouths together. Bucky moans at the taste of himself and spreads his legs wider, making room for Steve’s slim hips. 

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky breathes, one arm slung around Steve’s waist as the other cups his cheek. “I want to feel you.” Steve slides one hand up Bucky’s flank, making him shiver with anticipation. “I want you inside me.” 

Steve grins, soft and beautiful and fond, and Bucky’s heart skips a few beats. 

“Whatever you want, Buck,” Steve says, surging forward to reach for the nightstand. Bucky’s face gets smashed against Steve’s broad chest. “Just let me – ah, get the stuff. Gotta reach.” Steve rummages through the nightstand and Bucky laughs, biting playfully at Steve’s chest. He pushes Steve’s underwear down as far as he can with his hands and then skillfully maneuvers them the rest of the way off with his feet. 

Steve’s dick drags hot and slick against his stomach and Bucky bites his lip, reaching down to wrap his fingers around it. Steve yelps and cracks his head on the headboard. 

“Smooth,” Bucky laughs, and then pulls up on his dick and presses a suckling kiss to the smooth skin of Steve’s chest. Steve trembles slightly and makes a tiny squeaking noise, his body suddenly tensing. Bucky feels hot wetness against his thigh and Steve collapses on top of him, face buried in Bucky’s neck. 

“Wow, so that just happened,” Bucky says, and everything is quiet for just a moment. Then Bucky lets out a booming laugh, head thrown back as his eyes fill with tears from laughing so hard. Steve bites down hard on Bucky’s neck, but this just makes Bucky laugh even harder, stomach clenching from the force of it. 

“I hate you,” Steve mumbles, and then rolls onto his back. Bucky turns his head and they stare at each other for a moment, and then Bucky starts laughing again, shaking his head back and forth and slapping a hand over his mouth. Steve snorts and then starts laughing as well, cheeks reddening as he slides his fingers into his hair. 

“Your fault anyway,” Steve mumbles, looking completely adorable. Bucky wipes the tears from his eyes and takes a calming breath. “Being so fucking hot.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, stretching and reaching down to swipe his fingers through the come cooling on his hip. “It’s too bad. I really wanted to get fucked tonight.” 

Steve lets out a strangled noise as Bucky brings his fingers up to lick them clean, tongue curling seductively around his fingers. 

“But if you can’t keep it up,” he says teasingly, looking up at Steve from under his lashes with an exaggerated pout. Steve narrows his eyes and rolls over on top of Bucky, pinning his hands to the bed and wiping the smirk from his face. 

“Give me two minutes,” Steve says in a raspy voice, and Bucky raises his eyebrow in question. Steve slides down Bucky’s body and licks his come from Bucky’s hip, looking up at him with hooded eyes. Bucky bites his lip and lets out a loud groan when Steve traces the crease of Bucky’s thigh with his tongue. Pushing Bucky’s leg up and back, Steve leans in to swipe his tongue across Bucky’s tightly furled hole. 

“Fuck,” Bucky groans, tilting his hips up and burying his hands in Steve’s hair.

“In a minute,” Steve mumbles, his lips brushing Bucky’s slick hole. He spreads Bucky open with his thumbs and works his tongue inside. Bucky pants, pulling Steve in by his ears. Steve rims him eagerly, tongue pushing past his entrance and teeth scraping tight, pink muscle. 

Steve reaches up to wrap his hand around Bucky’s dick, squeezing tight and pulling up. That combined with Steve’s mouth on his ass sends Bucky over the edge and he groans as his orgasm hits, quick and intense. 

Steve is suddenly looming over him, a smug expression on his face. His chin is slick with spit and Bucky’s hips jerk with an aftershock. 

“As you were saying?” Steve teases, and Bucky glares up at him as he pants. He’s trying to think of a witty retort when suddenly Steve’s lubed finger slides inside of him, and his brain is wiped of every thought other than yes.

Steve barely waits before sliding another finger inside. There’s a slight pinch, a tiny reminder that it has been awhile, no matter how easy it was to fall right back into it. Steve senses his slight discomfort and adds a little more lube, his free hand sliding up Bucky’s stomach and chest. 

He slides up Bucky’s body, wrapping his hand around the back of Bucky’s neck as he fingers him, slick digits stretching him open. 

“Good?” Steve asks huskily, and Bucky nods absently. His mouth goes slack as Steve pushes in a third finger, kissing the bridge of Bucky’s nose as he does. “I missed this.” 

“Missed your hands,” Bucky pants. “Your mouth.” 

Steve kisses him then, effectively ending his rambling. It’s more a clash of teeth and tongues then any real kissing, and Bucky whimpers in frustration when Steve withdraws his fingers. Steve rolls him onto his side, lifting one leg up to rest on his hip.

Bucky closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as Steve’s chest presses against his back, and then he’s pushing in. Bucky lets out a loud moan, fingers clutching the sheets. Steve prepped him enough that he barely feels the burn, just the amazing slick glide of Steve’s bare cock sliding into him. He rolls his shoulders back enough to guide Steve’s mouth to his, kissing him and panting into his mouth as Steve bottoms out. 

“Buck,” Steve gets out in a strangled voice, and Bucky groans. He pushes back against Steve’s hips and lets his leg fall behind Steve’s ass, opening himself up wider. The position doesn’t give Bucky much leverage but Steve seems content to do all the work. He slides one arm under Bucky’s neck as he reaches up to tangle their fingers together. Steve’s free hand goes under Bucky’s knee to hold him open as he starts to thrust into him, deep and slow.

Bucky lets his head loll back onto Steve’s shoulder, reaching back to dig his fingers into Steve’s hip. Bucky closes his eyes and just lets himself feel nothing but the slick drag of Steve inside of him, filling him up. It’s amazingly perfect, and Bucky takes a deep breath at the sudden swell of emotion that rises up in his chest. Every time Steve touches him, his skin burns like a mark is being left. 

Steve twists his hips and presses against Bucky’s prostate, and Bucky just surrenders to the pleasure. He licks the sweat from his upper lip and trusts Steve to hold him together even when it feels like he’s going to explode. 

He trusts Steve with everything, and just lets go.

  
  



	39. Chapter 39

Steve’s eyes are wet and his chest is tight. There’s so much emotion boiling inside of him that he can barely contain it. Being with Bucky again is fucking  explosive .

The only problem is that he can’t get close enough in this position, not nearly close enough. He pulls out of Bucky and nearly grins when he lets out a soft shout in protest, fingers scrambling at his hip. Sweat stings the red marks he leaves behind, but Steve barely notices. He grabs Bucky’s knees and rolls him onto his back, slipping between his legs and sliding back inside of him.

They moan in unison, and Bucky’s eyes flutter open, lashes clumped with moisture. The pure adoration he sees in them makes Steve’s heartbeat a little faster, and he slides his arms under Bucky’s shoulders, pressing their bodies so close together that not even air can find room between them. 

He can feel Bucky’s dick, rock hard and pulsing, trapped between their bellies and he kisses him as their hips roll together. 

“Love you, Buck, fuck,” Steve pants, and Bucky licks his lips and tangles his fingers in Steve’s damp hair. 

“Love you, baby,” Bucky responds, voice fucked raw. “More, c’mon. Please.”

Steve responds by angling his hips so he’s hitting Bucky’s prostate on every stroke, pounding hard enough to make Bucky cry out. His skin is flushed pink, glowing with perspiration, and Steve buries his face in Bucky’s neck. 

Being with Bucky like this again makes him deliriously happy, and it’s not just because of the sex. It’s the intimacy of it. When they’re connected like this, so entwined that it’s almost like they’re two halves of a whole, Steve’s faith in them is firmly reestablished. 

It’s healing, like they’re forging their bond all over again and it’s stronger than ever. The past is the past, and it can stay there. They have their entire future to worry about. 

Steve bites down on Bucky’s neck, hard enough to bruise the skin as he fights to stay in control. He wants to lose it with Bucky, watch him come apart underneath him. 

“Come with me,” Steve breathes, hot and low in Bucky’s ear as he reaches between them to wrap his hand around Bucky’s dick. That’s all it takes, just that one touch and Bucky cries out. Steve pushes in one last time and lets go when he feels Bucky come into his palm. 

His orgasm is intense, enough to white out his vision as he lets out a harsh sob. He can feel his release inside Bucky, hot and slick as he continues to thrust into him until they’re both spent. 

He collapses onto Bucky, sucking in huge gulps of air. He’s close to tears, so overwhelmed by it all. He slips out of Bucky and rolls them onto their sides, both of them boneless as they tangle their limbs together. 

When he finally opens his eyes, he can feel wetness in his lashes and he nearly sobs at the sight of Bucky, looking at him with such a reverent gaze that it heals every single scar on Steve’s heart. 

“Thank you,” Bucky rasps, putting his hand on Steve’s cheek and thumbing the mole next to his nose. “For not letting me go.” 

“Couldn’t,” Steve says, voice thick and deep. “I love you too much.” 

“I love you,” Bucky repeats, so much feeling packed into those three syllables that Steve can’t help the tear that slips from his eye. Bucky laughs, soft and shaky as he blinks away the moisture in his own eyes. 

Their lips meet in a soft kiss, hands roaming lazily along sweat slick skin, and Steve knows he’d never even consider letting go, not ever. Not in a million years. 

Bucky is in his heart, in his soul and in his blood, and he’s never giving that up.

They sort of make themselves scarce that week, too busy making up for lost time to be good company to anyone except each other. Mainly due to the fact that they spend much of their time naked.

No one really comments on the way they spend all their time holed up in Steve’s room, or how they keep going for drives in Bucky’s car. Ben and Garrett crack the occasional joke about how they’re walking a little funny, or that their necks are covered in marks, but everyone looks too relieved to actually say anything. It’s not lost on Steve and Bucky that if they ever had a falling out, their families would be disastrously affected as well. 

On Wednesday night they drive out to Santa Monica just to sit in the wet sand and watch the sun dip below the horizon. It’s ridiculously sentimental, but Bucky can’t bring himself to care as Steve kisses him so sweetly under the fading twilight sky. 

On Thursday they wake up to the smell of turkey, and Bucky doesn’t let Steve out of bed until they’ve both come into each other’s mouths. 

When they do finally make it downstairs, freshly showered and shaven, Sarah is in the kitchen. Classic funk music is playing on the stereo and Bucky shakes his head fondly as she shakes her hips to it. She smiles when she notices them standing there and turns off the music. 

“Oh, good afternoon, boys. Sleep well?” She teases, and Bucky scratches at his nose as Steve stretches theatrically. 

“Do you need any help?” Steve asks, sniffing at the air. Sarah gives the kitchen a quick once-over and shakes her head. 

“I think I’m good,” she says, and then looks at Bucky. “Your mother called. She, uh, wants us all to go over there for dessert.” 

“Oh,” Bucky replies, snaking a carrot from the cutting board and biting off the tip. “Did the grandmonsters leave early?” 

“No,” Sarah says, brows knitting together as she returns to chopping vegetables. “She just said that she wouldn’t feel right without you there and that if they don’t like it they can pack up and leave.”

“Fine,” Bucky replies, shrugging one shoulder. Sarah turns to look at him and Steve places his hand low on his back. 

“You sure?” Steve asks, and Bucky takes another bite of carrot. 

“I mean, it’s not high on my list of happy fun times, but if she wants to throw us in a room together that’s her problem,” Bucky says plainly. “But I was having such a good week.”

“Yeah, everyone and their deaf dog knows how good of a week you’ve been having,” Garrett says, appearing suddenly and jamming a finger into one of the hickeys on Bucky’s neck. Bucky jumps and swats his hand away. 

“Leave them alone,” Sarah says as Garrett opens the refrigerator to get a couple of sodas. “They’re just young and in love.”

“Yeah, I’m young and in love, too,” Garrett retorts. “With sleep. And you two are keeping me from my one true love. All night long.” 

“You’re just jealous you aren’t getting any,” responds Steve, smirking at his big brother. 

“What, sleep?” Garrett asks. “Because I’ll have you know, I’m getting plenty of – “

“Okay!” Sarah shouts, effectively cutting off Garrett’s retort. “Knowing my children are having sex is one thing. Talking about it is another. Get the hell out of my kitchen.” 

“You got us in trouble,” Steve grumbles, socking Garrett’s shoulder as they turn to leave. 

“Dinner is at four!” Sarah calls after them. “Be presentable.” 

Steve tangles his fingers with Bucky’s as he leads them out into the backyard. The day is bright and balmy, and they sit down on the lush green lawn. 

“You really okay with this?” Steve asks, thumb skimming over Bucky’s knuckles. Bucky swallows hard, eyes trained on the ground as he absently picks at the grass with his free hand. 

“I’m not looking forward to it, if that’s what you mean,” Bucky answers, images of his grandparents’ disgusted glares flashing unbidden behind his eyes. “But if it’s what my mom wants, then I’ll endure.” Steve just nods, letting go of Bucky’s hand to wrap his arm around Bucky’s shoulders instead. “They probably don’t know about you, so you can probably just play it casual.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Steve asks, breath hot against Bucky’s temple. “The whole time I’m just going to be resisting the urge to kiss you, just to see the looks on their faces.” 

“Don’t,” Bucky says, smirking a little. “No drama. Let’s just go eat some pie, and then come home.” 

“Fine,” Steve replies, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll eat some pie. The things I do for you.” 

“I ask a lot, I know,” Bucky says somberly, and Steve grins against his temple. Bucky turns his head and they share a soft kiss, California sunshine warm on their flushed faces.

Later after Thanksgiving dinner, “Can’t. Move.” Steve lets out a groan and rolls onto his side, face smashed into the couch cushion. “Dead from turkey. Tryptophan coma looming.”

An unpleasant gurgle sounds from somewhere near Bucky’s belly, and he slumps down onto the sofa. 

The Rogers clan (plus one Barnes) is scattered around the living room, all happy and overfed. 

“Y’all got one hour to digest before we have to go eat some pie,” Joseph says around a wooden toothpick, letting out a sigh of relief as he pops the top button of his slacks. 

“Can’t,” Bucky groans, slumping over until his head is pillowed on Steve’s thigh. “There is physically no more room in my body for anything ever.” Steve snorts and Bucky rolls his eyes, slapping at his stomach. 

“I will puke on you,” Steve threatens, hands curling protectively around his stomach. 

“Then there really won’t be room for anything in me,” Bucky mumbles, and hisses when someone punches him in the leg. He twists around to see Garrett giving him a dude, come on sort of expression. Bucky just grins serenely, practically purring when Steve reaches back to run his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He falls asleep like that, fat and content like a lazy housecat getting scratched behind the ears. 

He’s woken up less than an hour later, feeling groggy and stuffed. He’s going to have to go on an extra long run tomorrow. 

He and Steve wait by the front door, looking into the mirror hanging there. Bucky winces as he looks at his neck, and then flips up the collar of his blue polo shirt in a futile attempt to cover some of the marks. He isn’t sure what makes him look more gay – the hickeys or the popped collar. 

He looks over and fiddles with the collar of Steve’s button down, lips pulled between his teeth in concentration. 

“Dude,” Garrett says, smirking at them. “All the concealer in the world still won’t make it look like you two aren’t a couple of vampires.” 

“Bucky said he’d break up with me if I wore a turtleneck,” Steve pouts, tucking his chin against his chest. 

“Yup,” Bucky agrees, tilting his chin back and rubbing at a particularly dark mark just below his left ear. “Turtlenecks are a deal breaker. Fuck it. They’re gonna hate us anyway, so who gives a shit?” 

“Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” Steve replies, flipping his collar back down. Bucky fiddles with his hair, the action making his shirt ride up enough to reveal his tattoo, which is also surrounded with hickeys.

“Bucky, you are like the poster child of gay,” Garrett laughs, and Bucky scowls at him. 

“You’re the poster child of asshole,” Bucky replies. “Are you riding with me and Steve?” 

“Yeah,” Garrett responds. “Gotta make sure the two of you don’t get randy in the middle of the whole six block trip and pull over somewhere to fuck. How the hell are the two of you still walking? You’ve been buried in each other for the better part of a week.” 

“Would you like a play by play?” Steve asks, and Bucky laughs when Garrett makes a disgusted face and shakes his head rapidly. “Then shut the fuck up.”

The rest of the family finally meets them in the foyer and they head out, piling into two cars to make the short trip. Steve opts to drive, giving Bucky ample time to get nervous, full belly rolling unpleasantly. Steve must sense his discomfort because he reaches over to put his hand on Bucky’s knee, squeezing reassuringly. 

When they pull up to Bucky’s house, he sees Steve give Garrett a pointed look out of the corner of his eye. Garrett clears his throat and pats Bucky on the shoulder before exiting the car. Once they’re alone Steve pockets the keys and turns as much as he can to face Bucky over the console. 

When Bucky turns to meet his gaze, he doesn’t see pity in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t really see understanding. He just sees concern. And love. It makes him stronger. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Steve says gently, reaching over to cup the back of Bucky’s head. Bucky lets out a harsh sigh and leans into Steve’s touch. 

“I just want to get it over with,” Bucky mumbles, looking down at his lap. 

“Hey, look at me,” Steve commands, and Bucky lifts his head to meet Steve’s gaze. Steve’s expression is protective and determined, and he leans in closer, arm curling intimately around Bucky’s neck. 

“They can hate you all they want,” Steve starts, voice pitched low and passionate. “They can hate you with every fiber of their being, with every bit of themselves, and it will still never even come close to how much I love you, Bucky.” 

Bucky sucks in a deep breath, his gaze locked on Steve’s gorgeous hazel eyes. 

“And I’m not the only one,” Steve continues. “You are surrounded by people that love you for who you are. Two people that are too stupid to do the same don’t stand a chance against all that, okay?” 

“I know,” Bucky says, nodding. Steve smiles and leans in to give him a soft but fervent kiss. Bucky draws strength from it, sighing against Steve’s lips as he pulls away.

“Thanks,” he breathes, and Steve gives him a radiant smile.

“No problem,” Steve replies. They get out of the car and meet the rest of the family on the porch, entering the house without knocking. Steve and Bucky bring up the rear of the group, and when they enter the dining room they take the two seats farthest from his grandparents at the giant dining table. They barely spare him a glance, instead staring ahead stonily. 

“Hey guys!” Winnie says cheerily. “How was your dinner?” 

“Fantastic!” Joseph says, patting George on the shoulder as he takes his seat. Becs gets up and throws her arms around Bucky’s neck. 

“Hey kid,” Bucky says fondly, kissing his little sister’s forehead. She returns to her seat and cuts him a sympathetic look. An awkward silence settles across the table, and Bucky stares down at his empty plate. 

“Well, that was a lovely meal, Winnie,” his grandmother says primly. “But I think we’re going to turn in for the night.” 

“Susan, with all due respect,” Winnie says through clenched teeth. “This is my house, and Bucky is my son. He has been forced to stay away from his own home because of your intolerance, and frankly I am done with it. Now you can either sit down and eat some pie with your entire family, or you can get the hell out of my house.” 

Bucky’s eyes widen and his grandparents give his mother a scandalized look. Susan’s harsh gaze snaps to George, eyebrows arching as if she expects him to protest. George just shrugs his shoulders. 

“She’s right,” he says, looking firm on his stance but also slightly uncomfortable. “You are my parents, but Bucky is my son. And he will be treated with respect when he is in his own home.”

Warmth floods through Bucky as he witnesses his parents standing up for him, but it’s quickly doused by an icy glare from his grandmother. Steve takes his hand under the table and Bucky squeezes it as he juts his chin out. 

“Well then,” his grandmother says icily, sitting back down. “We can be civilized, can’t we?” 

“We’ll see,” Winnie says, and pastes on a tight smile as she passes a pumpkin pie over to her loathsome mother-in-law. “Pie?” 

The mood over dessert is tense at best, and Bucky keeps a death grip on Steve's hand to ground him. Steve smoothes the pad of his thumb over Bucky's knuckles, and Bucky is immensely grateful, even cracking a smile as they both try to eat one handed. 

“We were just out at your brother’s place, George,” Susan says, and Bucky’s father looks up at her, a put upon expression on his face. “His ranch is so lovely. I still wish you’d never left Texas, dear.” 

She cuts Winnie a look as she grits her teeth. Bucky is well-versed in Grandma bitchspeak by now. She wishes George had never left Texas so he never would have met Winnie and ruined his perfect upbringing by falling in love with a crazy liberal Californian and having a queer son. 

“Travis just got engaged to such a lovely girl,” Susan continues, referring to Bucky’s cousin. “What about you, Ben? Do you have a girlfriend?” 

“Uh, somewhat,” Ben says awkwardly, picking at his pie crust. “I’m actually seeing one of Bucky and Steve’s friends. Her name is Natasha.” 

“Natasha?” She asks, and it’s amazing how she’s able to look from Ben to Steve without ever focusing on Bucky sitting between them. “I thought that was the girl you liked, Steve?” 

“It was,” Steve says tersely, clutching tightly at Bucky’s hand, hidden from view under the table. “But something better came along. You wouldn’t believe how lucky I am, Mrs. Barnes.” 

Steve squeezes his hand again and Bucky swallows hard, biting back a smile. Bucky slides his thumb across the back of Steve’s hand, eternally grateful. 

Things quiet down after that, awkward silence filling the stuffy room. Finally Winnie takes a deep breath and pipes up, pasting on a smile as she turns towards the boys. 

"So, winter break is coming up," Winnie says with forced cheer. "You boys doing anything special?" 

"Well, our friend Peter's parents have this place up at Big Bear," Ben replies absently, his fork scraping across his plate. "We were thinking we might head out there for a week or so. Of course, we'd have to get the lovebirds over here their own cabin, right?" 

Ben freezes in the middle of nudging Bucky's shoulder, eyes widening when he realizes what he said, and more importantly, who he said it in front of. Garrett rolls his eyes and stares Ben down from across the table and Ben squeezes his eyes shut, cursing silently. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky's grandmother says, and Bucky feels his cheeks flush. "Oh, so now the boy has dragged others down with him, is that it?" She looks hard at Sarah. "And you condone this?"

"Condone it? I encourage it," Sarah replies coldly. "The only reason I tolerate you at all is because you are a member of a family I care a great deal about. But that does not mean I have to sit here while you disrespect my son and the person he loves. You should remember that."

Susan's eyes narrow and Bucky's grandfather puts his hand on her arm, as if warning her to calm down. She looks at him and then over at Winnie, eyes blazing. Winnie just raises her eyebrow, as if daring her to speak. 

"Doesn't mean I need to have it thrown in my face,” Susan snaps, taking a deep breath as she looks Bucky right in the eye. “It’s disgusting. It’s shameful.” 

Bucky sucks in a gasp, eyes stinging with tears as he looks down at the table, shoulders shaking slightly. 

“Mother, that’s enough,” George says firmly, slapping his palm down onto the table hard enough to make the dishes shake. Susan glares at George and he glares right back at her – a standoff. 

A tear slips from Bucky’s eye and he keeps his head down, prays no one will see it. He did this. He tore his family apart. It’s completely silent for a moment. All Bucky can hear is his own harsh breathing. 

“No,” Steve says, eerily calm. Bucky looks over at him, pulling at his hand and praying that he doesn’t make a scene. “You’re the one that’s disgusting.” 

“Excuse me?” Susan replies, gaping at Steve as he stands. He keeps his grip on Bucky’s hand, exposing their entwined fingers to everyone. Bucky tries to pull his hand away but Steve doesn’t let him. He’s shaking so badly, trying so hard not to lose it. When Steve glances at him, Bucky sees the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. 

“Do you really think we care what you think about us?” Steve tells her, chest heaving up and down as he takes in deep, angry breaths. “We love each other, and you can sneer and snivel and make all the snide little digs you want, but you know what? Nothing you could ever say could change that or make it something to be ashamed of. You’re ignorant, and what you have to say is absolutely meaningless.” 

“How dare – “ Susan screeches, but Steve cuts her off. 

"Mom," he says, obviously speaking to Winnie. "Dessert was fantastic, as always, but we’re leaving. Come on, Bucky.” 

He tugs Bucky out of his chair and wraps one arm around his waist, looking at Bucky with a set jaw and a glint in his eye. Bucky swallows hard, desperate to get out of the room. He threads their fingers together again, tugging insistently as Bucky stumbles out of the dining room, eyes locked on the back of Steve’s head. As soon as they’re in the foyer Steve spins around, slinging one arm around Bucky’s waist and crashing their lips together, hard and insistent. Bucky knows they’re still in view of everyone in the dining room, can hear the shocked gasps, but he can’t bring himself to care. He kisses back and squeezes his eyes shut, causing a tear to slip out of his eye and slide down to their fused lips. 

“Steve,” Bucky starts once he pulls away, but he cuts himself off when he catches the look on Steve’s face. He looks hurt and angry, eyes bright and feverish and cheeks flushed. Steve pulls open the front door and Bucky gasps as the cold air hits his flushed, damp cheeks. 

“Bucky, wait!” Bucky turns towards the voice, breath catching in his throat when he sees his father running up to him. He places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, regret vivid in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I – you know I’m not them, right? You know I don’t think that way.” 

“I know, dad,” Bucky replies, voice thick with emotion. He hates that his family is so divided, that his father has to choose. George looks over at Steve, reaching out to pat him on the back. 

“Good job,” he says simply, and Steve looks surprised, eyes wide as he gives him a jerky nod. George squeezes their shoulders and then turns away, heading back towards the uproar in the dining room. 

“Let’s go,” Steve says roughly, and Bucky can do little more than follow.

Steve drives quickly, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ache. He hasn’t been this angry in a long time, and he’s never been witness to such blatant homophobia. It  hurts to think that anyone could even dare to think he and Bucky don’t belong together. How can anyone be so fucking  blind ?

He wants to go out to Hollywood, up into the hills and canyons and drive recklessly, but instead he navigates them to the field of wildflowers. The ground is bumpy, not meant for cars, and the vehicle shakes until he stops underneath a tree. He cuts the engine and leans back in the driver’s seat, letting out a huge breath and dropping his forehead to the steering wheel. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says, sounding slightly panicked. Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Bucky would try to twist it all around and make it his fault. 

“Don’t be,” Steve says, lifting his head and staring out of the windshield. The moon is fat and orange, hanging low in the sky and surrounded by glowing mist. “I’m just pissed off. And not at you.” 

“This is one of the things I was afraid of,” Bucky admits quietly. “I never wanted you to have to deal with this kind of shit.”

“I knew what I was getting myself into, Bucky. At least I thought I did,” Steve says, twisting to face Bucky. He’s staring at Steve with wide eyes, lips bitten red. He’s so beautiful, and Steve loves him so fucking much that he gets angry all over again. “But who the fuck are they to tell me who I can and can’t love? What gives anyone the power to do that? All these straight people fucking each other over left and right, and that’s okay?”

“Are you getting all impassioned on me?” Bucky teases, and Steve cuts him a glare. “Okay, so we’re not joking yet. Good to know.”

“And your grandparents!” Steve continues undeterred, hands waving spastically in front of him. “They wouldn’t know real love if it crawled up their pedestal and bit them on the ass. They barely even looked at each other the entire time we were there.”

“Well, they’ve been married for over forty years,” Bucky says, as if that excuses them from passion and emotion. From love. As if infatuation and devotion have an expiration date.

“And?” Steve responds, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning fully to face Bucky. “In forty years I’m still not going to be able to take my eyes off of you. I’m still going to love you with everything I’ve got and I’m going to make sure you know that until the day I fucking die.” Bucky swallows, eyes fixed on Steve’s face and Steve can’t look away. “Time is relative when it comes to love, Bucky. It has no meaning other than there isn’t enough of it. Love doesn’t get stagnant. It gets stronger every single fucking day. Real love, anyway. The kind we have.”

“Steve,” Bucky whispers, eyes going soft and liquid. He reaches out to place his hand on the console, palm up, and Steve takes it. 

“And according to them this insane, awesome, fucking incredible love that I have inside of me, that we have for each other, is wrong? How can something like this be anything less than a fucking miracle? I don’t get it.” Steve threads their fingers together, marvels yet again at how well they seem to interlock. He looks up to meet Bucky’s eyes, and they both lean in close enough that their foreheads nearly touch. 

“I love you, Bucky,” Steve says, voice thick with emotion. He leans in to put his hand on Bucky’s cheek, fingers dancing across the freckled bridge of his nose. Bucky sucks in a breath, eyes wide and unblinking. He looks like he’s trying not to cry and Steve smiles fondly, leaning to press a feather light kiss just above his left eyebrow. “I will always be in love with you and no one can ever tell me that the best thing that ever happened to me is anything less than amazing. That you are anything less than amazing.” 

“God, Steve, I – “ Bucky swallows thickly and presses their foreheads together. “You’re so – “

“Let me guess,” Steve interrupts, hand curling around the back of Bucky’s neck. “I’m awesome and you don’t deserve me, right?” Bucky just bites his lip and lowers his eyes. “Figured. It’s bullshit, Buck. You deserve every bit of happiness you get.”

They stare at each other for a long time. Steve watches Bucky’s throat work, Adam’s apple bobbing teasingly beneath marked skin. Bucky finally surges over the console and into Steve’s lap, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and fusing their mouths together. 

It isn’t exactly what Steve was going for as far as a reaction, but he isn’t complaining. 

Steve lets out a soft groan as Bucky cups his chin and pulls his mouth open, sweeping his tongue inside. He matches Bucky’s kiss with equal fervor, reaching down and fumbling with the levers until the seat rolls as far back as it can go. The back of the seat releases, crashing against the backseat and sending Bucky tumbling against his chest. 

Bucky bites Steve’s bottom lip on the way down and licks over the sting before sucking it into his mouth. Steve tips his head back and reaches down to cup Bucky’s ass, thumbs curling into the waistband of his jeans. The moon is bright, casting enough light for them to see by. It reflects off of Bucky’s wide eyes, makes his skin glow an eerie blue.

“I love you so much,” Bucky says, breathing hot and ragged into Steve’s ear. “You’re so fucking incredible.” Bucky sits up on Steve’s lap and grabs the hem of Steve’s shirt, yanking it over his head. His eyes rake across Steve’s body, and he hardens under the intense scrutiny. 

Bucky places a shaky hand over Steve’s sternum and drags it over until it rests firmly over Steve’s heart, which is thumping so hard against his ribcage he wonders if Bucky can feel it against his palm. Bucky is just staring at his splayed fingers, chest heaving as his breathing picks up. Steve puts his hand on top of Bucky’s, presses it even harder against his skin. 

“It’s all yours,” he whispers, and Bucky’s eyes flick to his. There is something like awe in his expression, and he swallows hard and nods shakily. He slides their joined hands down Steve’s stomach and leans in to press his lips to the smooth skin over Steve’s heart.

“I’ll take good care of it.” Steve feels his eyes mist over and he tugs Bucky up by his armpits, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw as he kisses him. He can feel Bucky’s fluttering pulse under his fingertips and he presses his mouth there, drags his tongue across the spot. Bucky lets out a shuddering breath, tilting his head to the side as Steve’s mouth ventures down to his collarbone. 

“I need to feel you,” Steve whispers, licking at Bucky’s earlobe as his hands go to the button of his jeans. “Okay, Buck? I – I need to be inside of you.” 

And he does. The need to be connected with Bucky in the most intimate way possible is overpowering. Bucky nods like it wasn’t even a question, like he needs it just as bad. 

It’s awkward to maneuver enough to get their clothes off. Bucky’s back bows against the roof of the car as he shimmies out of his jeans, and all that pale, freckled skin is nearly incandescent under the light of the moon. Once they’re both naked, Steve grabs Bucky by the back of the neck and pulls him into a fevered kiss, licking and nipping at his puffy lips. Rifling blindly through the center console, his fingers brush the sharp edges of condom wrappers and close around a sticky tube of lube. They use condoms sometimes if they aren’t at home and don’t want to deal with the mess, but Steve can’t stand the thought of anything separating them right now, not even the thinnest piece of rubber. 

He manages to coat his fingers without breaking their kiss, and Bucky rises up on his knees when Steve’s hand trails between his legs. He rubs some slick against Bucky’s hole, the tip of his finger slipping inside. 

“Don’t need a lot,” Bucky pants against his lips, hands gripping Steve’s shoulders tightly. Steve slips his middle finger in all the way to the knuckle and he can feel the shiver than runs through Bucky’s body. “Hurry, baby. Wanna feel you. C’mon.”

Steve kisses him, silencing his pleas as he prepares him, one hand splayed across his lower back and the other between his legs. He quickly works Bucky open on three fingers, cock leaking at the sight of Bucky rocking back against his hand, letting out little hiccupping breaths like it’s not enough. 

“Please,” Bucky gasps, and Steve is happy to comply. He withdraws his fingers and places his hands on Bucky’s hips, smearing sticky lube across his skin. 

“Okay, Buck. Do it, baby. Let’s go.” Steve bites down on his bottom lip, eyes locking on Bucky’s as he reaches down to grip Steve’s cock, guiding it into him. He sinks down slowly, hips circling until he’s sitting fully on Steve’s lap. “Fuck, Buck.” 

“So full,” Bucky breathes, clenching his muscles experimentally as he rests his elbows on Steve’s shoulders. They kiss languidly, sharing the air between their mouths until Bucky starts to move up and down, so lazy and slow. A needy groan escapes Steve’s lips but he refuses to close his eyes, not wanting to break their gaze. He slides his hands up Bucky’s trembling thighs, feels the muscles bunching with exertion. He puts his hands on Bucky’s hips and helps relieve the strain as best he can, helping to lift him up. 

Bucky has one arm wrapped around his neck, chests pressed together and leaking cock trapped between their bellies. It’s getting hot and muggy in the car, windows fogging so much that the outside world is barely visible. Steve likes that, wants Bucky all to himself in their own little bubble, tucked away from the cruel, harsh world. 

Their skin grows slick with sweat and they’ve barely stopped kissing since they started all this. Steve’s lips feel big and clumsy, numb from overuse but he never pulls away. The pace gets a little more frantic, a little more erratic as the pleasure builds up. Bucky lets out a ragged moan, angling his hips and pressing his chest forward in a way that allows him to get some friction on his dick. Steve starts to slide his hand between them, but Bucky stops him without even breaking their kiss. He grabs both of Steve’s hands, threading their fingers together. He pins one of Steve’s hands against the cool glass of the window and the other against the center console, using his knees to move himself up and down. It’s sort of the hottest thing Steve has ever seen. 

Steve feels Bucky tense up and drop down fully on his cock, burying it as deep as it will go as he presses his face into the sweaty curve of Bucky’s neck. Bucky lets out a sharp, ragged cry as his orgasm hits, slicking the space between their stomachs. Tight muscles spasm around Steve’s dick and he’s done, his orgasm hitting him so hard he nearly screams, clutching at Bucky’s hands so hard his knuckles turn white. 

When it’s over he sags against the seat, panting harshly as his hips twitch with aftershocks. Bucky is trembling, thighs quivering the way they do after a really amazing orgasm. He shakes his hands free from Bucky’s grasp and wraps his arms around his waist, fingers tracing indistinguishable patterns up and down his spine. 

He’s feeling loose-limbed and sleepy, eyelids drooping. He hears a hiccupping breath and a quick sniffle near his ear and that’s when he realizes Bucky is shaking more than usual, shoulders quaking against Steve’s chest. Brows furrowing in confusion, he slips a hand around to Bucky’s chest and pushes him back softly. 

Bottle green eyes stare back at him, tears leaking down flushed cheeks. Steve cups Bucky’s cheek tenderly, thumb sweeping under one eye. 

“What is it?” He asks softly, and Bucky brings a hand up to cover Steve’s, hips shifting slightly as Steve’s cock softens inside of him. 

“It’s just –” Bucky sniffs. “You and me, what we have. It’s intense.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat and he grins so wide his cheeks ache. He palms Bucky’s face with both hands and drags him in, kissing under each eye before placing a loving peck on his lips. 

Steve knows how intense it is – enough to overwhelm him every single day.

  
  



	40. Chapter 40

Bucky is actually glad to get back to school, eager to get back into their routine now that things are peachy keen between him and Steve.

He’s back to sleeping curled around Steve on their crappy air mattress that keeps going flat because he’s pretty sure Steve poked a hole in it with his protractor, and he couldn’t be happier. 

He slowly comes to awareness on Tuesday morning, waking up without opening his eyes. Something is touching his face, soft as butterfly wings, and Bucky fights to keep from smiling when he realizes that Steve is tracing his face with the tip of his finger. 

He stays perfectly still, breathing in and out evenly. Steve drags his finger along his jaw and across his bottom lip, sliding up the bridge of his nose and along one eyebrow. Steve lets out a contented sigh and traces the curve of his ear. 

Bucky’s heart starts pounding and he can’t keep the smile off of his face anymore. 

“Busted, creeper.” His eyes pop open just in time to see Steve blush, smiling sheepishly at him. “Watching me sleep?” 

“Maybe,” Steve says, sliding his hand up Bucky’s bare flank. “I think I’m entitled to creepily stare at my boyfriend without his knowledge.” 

“I assume so,” Bucky agrees, grinning sleepily. He shares a soft kiss with Steve that tastes like sleep and toothpaste. Steve pulls back enough for Bucky to see a mischievous grin on his face. His eyes glint dangerously and that’s all the warning he gets before Steve rips a loud, long fart. 

“Oh god!” Bucky shrieks, eyes widening when Steve pulls the covers over his head and pins him down. “Steve, you asshole!” The smell hits him then, burning his nostrils and making his eyes water. He thrashes wildly, punching at Steve through the blankets and cussing up a storm. Steve cackles with glee, his head safely out of the toxic cocoon. Bucky bucks up and slams his foot down on the bed, ripping a hole right through the plastic. All of the air rushes out of the bed and they hit the floor with a thump.

“Shit!” Steve calls, still laughing as he pulls the blankets away from Bucky’s face. He stares at Steve through narrowed eyes, but he can’t help but chuckle. Steve’s laugh is addicting. 

“You’re an asshole. And you owe us a new bed. This is like the third one we’ve popped,” Bucky says, waving his hand in front of his face. “This is how you treat your boyfriend? Make him inhale your toxic ass stink? I could have died.” 

“That’s how I treat my best friend,” Steve says, his laugh finally subsiding. “This is how I treat my boyfriend.” 

Steve leans in to press his mouth against Bucky’s neck, licking and sucking as his hand slides under the waistband of his pajama pants. Bucky lets out a low groan as Steve combs his fingers through the coarse hair at the base of his cock, sucking a purple mark into the hollow of his throat. Bucky hardens quickly under Steve’s ministrations, arching up a little when Steve wraps his giant hand around his dick. 

“I can’t believe you’re gonna jerk me off with the stench of your fart still in the air.” Steve ignores him, sliding down to tongue at a nipple. Bucky hisses, burying his fingers in Steve’s messy hair. 

“How about I blow you instead?” Steve says throatily, kissing his way down Bucky’s stomach. Bucky grins wolfishly and pushes Steve down by his shoulders. 

Their alarm goes off, and Bucky reaches over to hit snooze just as Steve sucks him into his mouth.

Thanks to Steve’s sensational morning blowjob, Bucky is running late for work. He rushes down the hall in nothing but his glasses and his bathrobe, hair sticking up from a vigorous towel scrubbing. When he gets back to their room Steve is hopping into a pair of jeans. Showering for a morning class isn’t high on Steve’s list of priorities.

Bucky tosses his robe on the bed as soon as the door is shut, shivering as the cool morning air hits his naked body. He pushes his glasses up on his nose and goes over to the nightstand, searching for his contacts case. 

“Hey, have you seen my contacts?” Bucky asks, glancing at the clock. 

“No,” Steve replies roughly. “But I do see me skipping class to fuck the shit out of you.” 

“I have work,” Bucky says absently, forgoing contacts and crossing to the dresser to get his clothes. 

“But you’re naked,” Steve whines, coming up behind Bucky, slinging an arm around his waist and kissing the side of his neck. Bucky sighs and slumps against Steve for a moment, his jeans dropping to the floor. “And wearing your glasses.”

“I have work, baby,” Bucky says again, but tilts his head to the side. Steve slides his fingers along the crease of his ass, one fingertip pressing against his hole. Bucky whimpers, hips twitching slightly. “Steve. Come on.” 

“Bet your ass tastes so good,” Steve breathes into his ear, mouthing at his jaw. “All clean from your shower. Wanna make you dirty, Buck. Wanna lick you open.” 

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” Bucky whimpers, turning around in Steve’s arms and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I have work, and you have class. When we meet back here in three and a half hours, you can have your wicked way with me.” 

“Fine,” Steve relents, tangling his fingers in Bucky’s damp hair. “You promise?” 

“I wouldn’t lie about letting you fuck me,” Bucky replies, smirking and tracing the shell of Steve’s ear with his tongue. “Gonna think about your cock.” 

“Gonna think about your ass,” Steve responds, cupping one bare cheek and squeezing. “All the things I’m gonna do to you.” 

“Yeah, well,” Bucky responds, suddenly pulling back and slapping Steve on the ass. “As long as there is a new bed in here by then.” 

Steve pouts as Bucky gets dressed and they both grab their bags and head out the door. Bucky glances towards the left and sees Peter leaning again the doorjamb of Wade’s room. Bucky falters in his step and reaches out to grab Steve’s arm. Something must be going on, because Wade rarely wakes up before lunchtime. 

He sees a hand, strong and tan and unmistakably Wade’s, come out and wrap around the back of Peter’s neck. Bucky’s eyes widen and he pushes Steve back into their room, peeking his head around the door to spy. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, and Bucky shushes him, motioning him to look as well. Steve sticks his head out right over the top of his own, and Bucky grins as he watches Wade step out into the hall. He wraps his arms around Peter’s shoulders, leaning in to brush their noses together before giving him a soft kiss. Bucky slaps his hand over his mouth to stifle his squeak. 

Wade and Peter have been dancing around each other for months, and Bucky is so fucking thrilled that they finally seem have given up the ghost. He hears Steve make a soft aww sound overhead, and Bucky bites his lip. 

Wade and Peter are whispering to each other, lips close enough to brush. Peter laughs at something Wade said, lips stretched wide. He’s never seen Peter look so relaxed, and he’s never seen Wade look so happy. 

Wade puts his hands on Peter’s cheeks and kisses his forehead, giving him a lingering smile before heading back into his room. Peter stares dopily at the closed door for a moment, biting on his bottom lip. Bucky and Steve both let their heads tilt to the side, sticking obviously out into the hallway.

Peter turns and freezes when he spots them, blinking rapidly before his normal irritated expression slips into place. 

“If it isn’t the fucking Bobbsey twins,” Peter groans, eyes narrowing at them when they both just smile sweetly. “Oh, shut the fuck up.”

He tries to storm past them but Steve catches him around the waist, spinning him around to face them. 

“Details, Petey-poo,” Steve singsongs, and Peter rolls his eyes as he extracts himself from Steve’s grasp. 

“We fucked,” he says simply, but Bucky raises an eyebrow when the apples of his cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink. 

“That didn’t look like the morning after of two people who just fucked for the hell of it,” Bucky replies teasingly, biting on the tip of his tongue at Peter’s angered expression. “That looked like two people who loooove each other.”

“Who want to kiiiiiss each other and hooold each other,” Steve sings, planting a wet kiss on Peter’s flaming cheek. He pushes them away, trying valiantly to fight back the smile tugging at his lips. 

“I see that!” Bucky cries, poking at the corner of Peter’s mouth. Bucky’s expression goes serious as he looks at Peter. “You guys are good together. I’m happy for you.” 

“Whatever,” Peter grumps, but he’s smiling fondly at Bucky. “Don’t you two lovey-dovey assholes have a class to skip off to together?” 

Without waiting for an answer, he turns to head down the hallway towards his room. Steve and Bucky share a look, clasping their hands together. 

“We should totally double!” Steve calls out, and Peter just raises his middle finger up in the air without looking back. 

“Go learn something for once, asshole!” 

Bucky snickers and pulls Steve over to Wade’s door, grabbing the dry erase marker hanging from a string with his free hand. After pulling the cap off with his teeth, he writes a message. Busted, homo! We want all the dirty deets. – J&J

“We are like, beyond late,” Steve informs him after peeking at his cell phone. Bucky starts a little and pulls Steve towards the stairs. 

They part ways at the main entrance, sharing a lingering kiss before Steve goes right and Bucky goes left.

  
  



	41. Chapter 41

Turns out, they do double that weekend, but not with Wade and Peter.

They meet Ben and Natasha at a nice Italian restaurant in town, and they plop down into the booth across from them. Candles flicker on the table and Steve grabs a breadstick in lieu of a greeting, tearing off the end and feeding it to Bucky.

“This is so gay,” Ben mumbles, huffing a sigh. “I cannot believe I’m on a double date with my brother.” 

“Believe it, baby,” Steve says around a bite of bread, and Natasha leans in to kiss Ben’s cheek. 

“Even more,” Ben continues. “I can’t believe I’m dating the girl my little brother’s boyfriend used to beat off to. It’s so down home country cooking.” 

Bucky chokes on his bread, Steve flushes beet red, and Natasha punches Ben hard in the shoulder. 

“I didn’t – I mean, not a lot. Oh god.”

“It’s fine, Steve. I’ve thought about you and Bucky to help me fall asleep,” Natasha says, not even bothering to look ashamed. Ben turns to look at her, horrified, and Bucky’s jaw drops. A piece of bread falls out and lands on the tablecloth. 

“Ew,” Bucky says, wrinkling his nose. Steve picks up the piece of fallen bread and eats it. “Ew!”

“We are such a fucking disgusting incestuous little group,” Ben laments, sighing and rolling his eyes. “Let’s just have a foursome and get it the hell over with.” 

“I thought group sex was you and Garrett’s thing?” Bucky asks innocently, smearing butter on a new piece of bread. “I mean, you seemed to enjoy it.” 

“I will kill you,” Ben grits out, and Natasha turns to stare at her boyfriend, eyebrow raised in question. “He’s kidding, baby.” 

“Did Ben just ask us to gangbang his girlfriend?” Steve asks jovially, and Ben slaps a hand over his face. 

“No one is going to gangbang me,” Natasha says decidedly, but she looks like she’s trying not to laugh. 

“Uh, I can come back?” No one noticed the waiter standing there until that moment, and they all turn to look as he scurries away. They all look at each other for a few minutes and then bust up laughing. Steve tries a few times to speak, but he’s laughing too hard. 

“This – this is the best date ever.”

After dinner they all decided to cram into Bucky’s car and drive out to Santa Monica because, well, it’s Saturday and why the hell not?

What none of them took into account is that even though it’s southern California, December is still December and it’s freezing out. They brave the cool air and kick off their shoes to walk through the dry sand. 

The pier looms in the distance, lights dimmed due to the late hour but there are still people lingering on it. After a while, the two couples separate. Steve and Bucky trail nearly twenty feet behind Ben and Natasha. Steve and Bucky have their fingers entangled, hands swinging between them. 

It’s peaceful, being out here so late. The waves crash against the shore and Steve takes a deep breath of the cool, salty air. Bucky moves a little closer to Steve as they walk, and Steve can feel him trembling. 

Steve grabbed a hoodie on the way out, but Bucky is clad only in a button down shirt. Steve is actually warm, and as usual Bucky is freezing. He lets go of Bucky’s hand to shrug out of his jacket. 

“Here,” Steve says, handing the jacket over to Bucky. He takes it with a grateful smile, but when they look up they see Ben putting his coat over Natasha’s shoulders. “Just so you know, this officially makes you the girl.” 

“Fuck you and your jacket,” Bucky replies, tossing the hoodie at Steve’s face. “I’m fine. I’m warm like a man.” 

“Buck,” Steve laughs, coming up behind Bucky and wrapping him up in the warm garment. “You’re shaking. Take the jacket, please.” Bucky huffs and slips his arms through the sleeves and Steve kisses the tip of his ear. Up ahead, Ben twirls Natasha in a circle then dips her, kissing her softly under the moonlight.

“Look at them,” Bucky snorts. “I think they’re trying to take our status as the world’s cutest couple.”

“Good luck,” Steve replies, looping his arm over Bucky’s shoulders. “No one can take our crown. We’re fucking adorable.” 

Natasha jumps up onto Ben’s back as a wave crashes over Ben’s feet, and her laughter carries down the beach. Steve coughs and Bucky narrows his eyes.

“I could give you a piggyback ride if you want,” Steve offers, and Bucky scowls at him. “Or not?” 

“I said be cute, not try to further cement my status as the girl,” Bucky grumbles. Steve snickers and kisses Bucky’s temple before squatting in front of him. 

“C’mon! I know your tootsies are cold. Hop on!” Steve says, wiggling his butt. Bucky just huffs. “Don’t even act like you don’t want one.” 

“Fine!” Bucky says, hopping on Steve’s back and looping his arms around Steve’s neck. Steve hooks his elbows underneath Bucky’s knees, chuckling when Bucky presses his frozen toes against his thighs.

“Besides,” Steve starts, carrying Bucky along the sand like he weighs nothing, “we win solely due to our back story. Little kids who grew up together and then fell in love totally trumps meeting in college. Everyone meets in college. So, we win.” 

“I guess that’s true,” Bucky says, pressing his cold lips against Steve’s neck. Steve stops walking and turns his head to the side. 

“Kiss me,” Steve demands, and Bucky is all too eager to comply. He cranes his head forward and presses their lips together. Steve gets too into it, forgetting to account for Bucky’s weight on his back as he leans into it. They go toppling backwards into the sand and Steve lands hard on top of Bucky, who lets out a gasp as the wind gets knocked out of him. “Oh shit! Sorry!” 

“Your piggyback privileges have been revoked,” Bucky wheezes, shoving Steve off of him. “You crushed my nuts.” 

“You’re still gonna ride me though, right?” Steve asks as he helps Bucky up, brushing the damp sand off of his clothes. “Like, in other ways.”

“Ask me that when I don’t have sand in my lungs, asshole,” Bucky replies, and then lets out a sharp whistle. “Hey, lovebirds! Time to go!”

“Why?” Ben yells back, arms looped around Natasha’s tiny frame. 

“Steve has caused me grievous bodily harm!” Bucky yells, and Steve rolls his eyes. “Party over!”

“How are your balls?” Steve says, leaning in and cupping Bucky’s crotch. Bucky hisses, eyes narrowing as Steve leans in close. 

“Depends,” Bucky grits out. “Gonna kiss them all better?” 

“You know it.” Steve nips at the tip of Bucky’s nose, and Ben appears to slap Steve’s hand away from Bucky’s crotch. 

“No!” Ben shouts, shaking his finger in Steve’s face. “Bad Steve. No.” 

“Hey. You do not get to dictate when my boyfriend can and cannot touch my junk, okay?” Bucky tells him, and Steve just nods seriously. “Now, I would like to get home so the junk touching can actually commence.” 

“Gross,” Ben groans. 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Natasha smirks, and Ben’s eyes widen. He shoves Steve and Bucky in the general direction of the car. 

“You heard the pretty lady. Let’s go!”

Steve and Bucky stumble giddily up the hall, interlocked hands dangling between them. The door to Wade’s room swings open and Peter tumbles out, but Wade quickly snags him around the waist. He pushes Peter up against the wall and kisses him passionately, arms locked around his waist.

“Aw, young love,” Steve coos, and Bucky smirks as they approach. 

“Young something,” Bucky responds. “What a good role model, gyrating against his boyfriend out in the hall. After hours no less.”

“Come on, Wade,” Peter says, pulling away and turning his head to the side. Wade just groans and presses his mouth to Peter’s neck. “I need to fucking study at some point.”

“I am somewhat aroused,” Steve admits. “Is that bad?” 

“Give it up, Peter,” Bucky calls out, ignoring Steve’s comment. “It’s midnight. You’re not gonna do any studying. Just let your boyfriend fuck you.” 

“Mm, smart kid,” Wade mumbles, mouth dragging up to Peter’s ear. He lets out a breathy moan and Steve’s head tilts to the left. Bucky elbows him and Peter pushes ineffectually at Wade, finally settling for looking at them over his shoulder. 

“Hey guys,” Peter laughs breathlessly. “Wade, give me two seconds!” 

“What the hell is it with everyone trying to be cuter than us?” Steve demands, and Bucky laughs and squeezes his hand. 

“They don’t have matching tattoos,” Bucky reminds him, and Steve nods as Peter struggles out of Wade’s grasp and comes to stand in front of them. Wade clings to the back of him, mouthing at his neck. Peter just sighs and tilts his head to accommodate him. 

“I just wanted to ask you guys before everything gets crazy with finals,” Peter says, reaching up to put a hand over Wade’s face and push him back. Wade growls and bites at his fingers. “You are coming up to Big Bear for New Year’s, right? I’m giving you two the other bedroom.” 

“We were planning on it,” Bucky replies. “Why do we get the extra bedroom?” 

“You’re Peter’s favorites,” Wade tells them, grinning against the curve of Peter’s shoulder. “His little pet freshmen.” 

“I like you guys,” Peter shrugs, and Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You’re cute and in love, and if I have to hear anyone fuck all night I’d rather it be you.” 

“Okay, you and Wade being together is awesome,” Steve exclaims. “Sex calms you down more than pot.” 

“It’s true.” Wade nods, nipping at Peter’s earlobe. “Are we done with the polite conversation now?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky laughs. “Go have your sex, and we’ll go have ours.” 

“We could combine our efforts,” Wade says, winking as he nods towards his open door. “Might be fun.” 

Steve and Bucky laugh, but Wade and Peter just raise their eyebrows. Oh, so not kidding, then. Steve laughs awkwardly and wraps his arm around Bucky’s waist. 

“Sorry to disappoint, boys,” Steve tells them, fingers slipping under Bucky’s shirt to find his tattoo. “We don’t share.” 

Wade and Peter just shrug and lean in to kiss their foreheads before hurrying into their room and slamming the door. Steve and Bucky share a look and then crack up, heading for their own room. Bucky was sleepy, but Steve’s fingers stroking possessively across his tattoo, trailing down the groove of his hip, wakes him up. 

“So, we just got propositioned by our RA,” Bucky laughs, and Steve presses him up against the door and kisses him.

“And it might have been fun,” Steve breathes, “but I like the fact that no one has touched us but each other. Don’t wanna fuck that up.” 

“Sentimental,” Bucky mumbles against Steve’s lips, but he feels the exact same way. They’re young and in college, supposed to be out experimenting and having fun. But he knows nothing will ever compare to the feel of Steve’s hands on him. Why would he go out looking for something else when he’s got everything he needs? “Fun night.” 

He empties his pockets and dumps their contents on the nightstand as Steve flips the air mattress onto the floor, putting his foot on it to make sure it’s full. 

“Ben and Natasha are cute,” Bucky says, eyes trained on Steve as he toes out of his shoes and pulls off his belt. “You – I mean, you’re good with that, right?” 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, pausing in unbuttoning his jeans. “Oh, come on, Buck. I haven’t felt that way about Natasha since we got together. You know that.” 

“Yeah, it’s just sort of weird how everything turned out, you know?” Bucky asks, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as he thinks. “I mean, if Ben and Natasha ever get married, she’d be my sister.”

“And then when you and me get married, she’ll be my sister,” Steve says, pulling his shirt over his head. Bucky’s fingers skitter over the last button of his shirt and he freezes. Steve just mentioned them getting married so casually, like it’s something they’ve already discussed and Bucky just forgot. 

“…What?” He asks eloquently, and his whole world tilts on its axis, skin flushing hot as he waits for Steve to answer. 

“Well, I mean,” Steve continues. “Even though I don’t like her now, I used to. So that’d be an awkward story to tell at – “

“No, that’s not – “ Bucky interrupts, taking a step towards Steve and nearly tripping over the air mattress. “We’re gonna get married?”

“Well, yeah,” Steve says, rolling his eyes like Bucky is running a little slow. “Eventually.” 

“Is this – “ Bucky trips over his words, starts again. “Are you proposing?” 

“Give me some credit,” Steve snorts, seemingly unaware that Bucky is about to start freaking out. “When I propose, it’s gonna be fucking awesome. Ten bucks says I make you cry.”

“So – so you are going to propose?” Bucky asks delicately, kicking off his jeans and pulling his shirt off of his shoulders, leaving him in only a pair of black boxer briefs that he stole from Steve’s clean laundry. All the air seems to have been sucked out of the room, and Bucky struggles to breathe. They’re tossing around words like marriage and proposal like they aren’t just kids. Like they’re ready. Scary part is, Bucky thinks he might be.

“Yes,” Steve states, kicking off his own pants and sitting on the edge of his bed, feet propped up on the air mattress. He’s gorgeous and tan and he looks so serious. “What, do you not want to marry me?”

“No! I mean – oh god.” Bucky stumbles across the air mattress and falls into Steve’s lap, getting up on his knees to straddle his waist. Steve looks up into his eyes, and he actually looks a little weary as he cups Bucky’s elbows. “I – wow, I do. I just never really thought about it before.” 

“Oh, well. I have,” Steve says simply, and Bucky wraps one arm around his neck, presses them skin to skin. “A little.” 

“Oh.” They look at each other, and Bucky’s heart is beating so fast he’s sure Steve can hear it thundering against his ribcage. “So are we engaged?” 

“No,” Steve replies, hands resting low on Bucky’s lower back. Questing fingertips dip below the waistband of his underwear and Bucky shivers. “I haven’t proposed yet.” 

“But you said you’re going to,” Bucky tells him, fingers tangling in the baby soft curls at the nape of Steve’s neck. “And I said I would say yes. That’s pretty much what being engaged is.” 

“Yes, but it hasn’t actually happened yet.” Bucky shivers as Steve leans in to press a kiss to his collarbone. 

“But it will,” Bucky breathes, and Steve chuckles against his skin, nodding. “So then, we’re like – engaged to be engaged?” 

“Looks that way,” Steve says, lips finding their way up to Bucky’s ear. 

“Oh, okay,” Bucky breathes, blinking and tilting his head to the side to give Steve better access. “Wow.” 

“I can’t believe you’ve never thought about marrying me,” Steve says, lips pressing against the smooth skin under Bucky’s ear. He shivers, arms locking tighter around Steve’s neck. 

“Steve,” he says, voice suddenly thick with emotion. “I pretty much got everything I ever wanted when I got you. I never even contemplated getting anything else.” 

“Well, you’ve got me. Forever,” Steve breathes, tilting back to give Bucky a soft, loving kiss that Bucky relaxes into. Steve pulls back, a smirk on his plush lips. “You’re going to look so pretty in your dress.” 

“See,” Bucky scoffs, pushing at Steve’s chest. “You act all sweet and then you ruin it. I hate you.”

“No, you love me.” Steve grins, hands sliding up Bucky’s back. “That’s why you’re gonna marry me.”

“Holy shit. I’m gonna marry you.” 

They stare at each other for a few moments, and then Bucky surges forward to crush their lips together in an intense, passionate kiss.

  
  



	42. Chapter 42

Bucky is so gorgeous like this, skin flushed pink and all slick with sweat.

The air mattress was a good idea in theory, and it works for the most part. But for what Steve wants right now he needs a stable surface, and Bucky gasps as Steve presses his hips down firmly against the tiny twin mattress of the standard issue dorm bed. Bucky is on his stomach, head turned to the side as he takes in deep gulps of air. 

Steve uses his knee to spread Bucky’s thighs and then lies down on top of him, blanketing Bucky’s smaller body with his own. His slippery cock slides across the firm curve of Bucky’s ass and he hisses, so hard and aching. 

“Steve,” Bucky breathes, trying to arch his hips up but Steve won’t let him, keeps him pinned down so he can’t move and he has to let Steve do all the work. Steve arches up a little, keeps one hand flat against the small of Bucky’s back to keep his hips in place. His hole is all pink and shiny, stretched by his fingers, and Steve watches as he slides his dick inside, in awe of the way Bucky’s body swallows him greedily. “Oh god.” 

“Feel so good around me,” Steve breathes, blanketing Bucky’s body again. Bucky puts his palms flat against the bed like he’s going to try and push himself up, so Steve grabs them and stretches Bucky’s arms over his head, fingers curling together. 

Bucky whimpers and then relaxes; going boneless against the bed and surrendering to Steve, letting him do all the work. And he wants to – wants to show Bucky how much he’s cared for, how much he’s loved. 

He pulls out torturously slow and slides back in even slower, angling for Bucky’s prostate and pressing against it. Bucky moans brokenly, clutching at Steve’s fingers. Steve gathers the sweat at the nape of Bucky’s neck with his tongue, tastes him and then sucks a mark there as he keeps his hips rolling at a slow, lazy pace designed to break Bucky apart underneath him. 

“Still gonna let me fuck you like this when we’re married?” Steve rasps against Bucky’s ear, grinning when he feels Bucky shiver beneath him. 

“You – ah, fuck – say that like it’s happening anytime soon,” Bucky grits out, hips making a useless effort to roll under Steve. He pushes in deep, pins Bucky down with his own hips. 

“You don’t know when it will happen,” Steve says, nipping at the freckled tip of Bucky’s ear before pulling out and slamming in suddenly, making Bucky crane his head back and moan desperately. “I’m gonna be stealth with it, like a proposal ninja. You’ll never see it coming.” 

“If you can fucking talk this much when your dick is in my ass, I must be doing something wrong,” Bucky snaps, and Steve chuckles. “Will you please shut up and fuck me?” 

Steve presses a kiss to the spur of Bucky’s shoulder and begins rolling his hips in that same, lazy pace. He brings Bucky’s hands up to the headboard and curls his fingers around one of the slats, pressing against them to make sure Bucky keeps them there. He does, and Steve slides his free hand underneath Bucky’s neck, gripping his opposite shoulder and pulling him up into Steve as he fucks him. 

Bucky whimpers again, soft little noises falling from swollen lips. He turns his head to the side as far as he can, feverish eyes pleading, and Steve leans in to kiss him at an awkward angle, hips speeding up when their kiss sends a spark up his spine. 

He still won’t let Bucky move with him, just fucks into him at his own pace, trusting the bed to be enough friction against Bucky’s dick. He wants to make Bucky come on his cock alone, and he angles just so, hitting that spot inside Bucky with every stroke. 

Bucky lets his head fall back to the bed, and he’s just broken, strung out on pleasure. He’s slick with sweat and trembling, the hand still holding Steve’s clenching in time with their thrusts. 

“Need me to touch you, baby? Or is this enough?” He hits Bucky’s prostate again hard, hips rolling faster now. Bucky keens and shakes his head, eyelashes clumped with moisture. 

“Wanna come like this,” he breathes, and Steve mouths at the nape of his neck. “I’m – I’m close. Please, Stevie.” 

“Mm, hey,” Steve pants when Bucky closes his eyes, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “I love you. Gonna do this with you forever.” 

“Oh god,” Bucky moans, tensing and letting go of the headboard to clutch at Steve’s arm where it’s looped under his shoulders. “Loveyou.” 

And then he comes, a sharp cry tearing from his lips as his ass clenches down on Steve’s cock, tight as a goddamn vice. He mumbles Steve’s name over and over, crying it out with each aftershock. He’s trembling in Steve’s arms, so fucked out and blissful, tight hole still clenching and unclenching around Steve’s cock. 

Steve nearly falters at the sheer sight of Bucky coming undone. It’s the most exhilarating thing Steve has ever seen. After just a few more thrusts his own orgasm hits, so intense he can’t help the hoarse cry that tumbles from his lips as he empties into Bucky, marks him in the most intimate way possible. 

Bucky moans so loud at that, at just the feeling of Steve slicking him up inside, and Steve collapses on top of him. He pants harshly against the back of Bucky’s neck, arm going slack against the bed. 

Bucky shakes in his arms and Steve fucking loves that, loves feeling him tremble because he came so hard. He moves to sit up and Bucky clutches at his arm, a choked off whimper coming from him. Steve shushes him, squeezing his hand. 

“I got you,” he breathes, and reaches underneath them to touch Bucky’s dick. It’s still hard, wet and sticky from where it’s trapped against the bed. “You’re still hard for me, even after all this come.” 

Bucky just whines when Steve touches him, too fucked out to even speak and god, that’s hot. Steve pulls out of Bucky and shakes his hand free of Bucky’s, maneuvering them onto their sides so Bucky is lying across his forearm, fingers still curled around Bucky’s dick. He takes his other hand and slides two fingers back into Bucky’s swollen hole, making him twitch and gasp. 

“Can you come again?” Steve asks, his own voice still rough and shaky from his own orgasm. Bucky just whimpers, eyes wet and squeezed shut. Steve wraps his fist around Bucky’s dick and strokes lazily while he uses his other hand to finger Bucky, rubbing against his prostate with unrelenting pressure. “I bet you can.” 

“Steve,” he breathes, eyes snapping open. A tear rolls down his cheek but Steve knows it’s just because of all the intense emotions running through him, all the pleasure Steve is giving him. Bucky is lax and pliant in Steve’s arms, just giving himself over to Steve, letting him do whatever he wants. 

Steve sucks hard at the juncture of neck and shoulder and slides in a third finger. His own cock is stirring against his thigh but he ignores it. This is all for Bucky. He presses his fingers hard against his prostate at the same moment he rubs at the bundle of nerves under the head of Bucky’s dick. Bucky tenses, crying out as his second orgasm hits just minutes after the first. His dick spurts weakly, and Steve gathers the fluid on his fingers and paints Bucky’s lips with it. He turns his head with a sticky hand on his cheek and leans forward to kiss him. 

“Knew you could,” Steve breathes, and Bucky just stares up at him with lust-blown eyes. Steve lets his fingers slip from Bucky’s ass, slick with his own come. He wipes them on the bed and turns Bucky around in his arms, pressing them chest to chest. “Feel good?” 

Bucky nods weakly and seeks out Steve’s lips, kissing him softly and clutching at him as his hips jerk with aftershocks. Steve wipes Bucky off with the sheet and then rolls them straight off the edge of the bed, chuckling as they land on the air mattress with a bounce and Bucky lets out a squeak. 

Steve just lies on his back and pulls Bucky up to his side, one arm looped around his waist as he pulls the blanket up over them. Bucky is down for the count, eyelids drooping sleepily as he pillows his head on Steve’s chest. 

“One thing’s for sure,” Steve says, and Bucky lets out a questioning hum. “You definitely can’t wear a white dress.”

Turns out Bucky has just enough energy to hit him in the balls before falling asleep.

  
  



	43. Chapter 43

When Steve comes home from his last class on Thursday night Bucky is sitting at his desk, tapping idly at his notebook while staring blankly out of the window. He blinks and looks over his shoulder at Steve when he enters, narrowing his eyes at the grin on Steve’s face.

“Hey,” Bucky says, and Steve bites down on his bottom lip. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright. He’s up to something. 

“Hey,” Steve replies, tossing his bag on one of the unused beds. He runs his fingers through his unruly hair and rocks back onto his heels. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?” 

Bucky sighs, eyes flicking over to the calendar where today’s date is marked with Matt @ Hotel Café! in his own excited font. Almost a month ago Matt Nathanson announced on his website that he would be doing a tiny, intimate gig in LA and to get tickets while they were hot. Bucky had been so ready, marked the date and everything. 

But then he and Steve broke up, and something like his favorite artist coming to town didn’t even seem like a blip on his radar. He slept right through tickets going on sale, and was still asleep when they sold out hours later. So he’s not going to get to see the show. No big deal. He’ll live. 

Maybe. Doesn’t mean he can’t mope about it. 

“No plan,” Bucky sighs, pushing away from his desk and spinning his chair around to face his boyfriend, who appears to be vibrating with barely contained excitement. “What’s up with you?”

“I got you something,” Steve says, the words tumbling out in a rush of air like he just couldn’t wait to say them. He pulls an unmarked white envelope out of his back pocket and taps it against his palm once before handing it over. Bucky takes it with a raised eyebrow and flips it over, sliding his finger under the flap and tearing it open. 

Inside are two tickets to the Matt Nathanson show. 

Bucky’s face flushes with heat and he may or may not let out a squeak. He pulls out the tickets and stares at them like they’re made of gold, turning them over in his hand and swallowing the lump in his throat. He looks up at Steve, noting the warmth in his eyes and his proud, pleased smile. 

“How did you – Steve, oh god.” Bucky surges out of his chair and launches himself at Steve, throwing his arms around Steve’s neck and hooking his knees around his waist. Steve laughs and clutches at Bucky’s thighs, stumbling a little as he holds him up. “Thank you!” 

“You’re welcome,” Steve says warmly, one hand sliding up Bucky’s back as he clings to Steve tightly. Steve kisses the side of his head and Bucky lets his feet slip to the floor, one arm staying locked around Steve’s waist. 

“How did you get these?” Bucky asks, looking down at the tickets in his hand again. Steve’s hand slides up the back of Bucky’s shirt, thumb tracing the dip of his spine. 

“Uh, I basically stalked craigslist and every ticketing auction site I could think of,” Steve says easily, and Bucky gets a crinkle in his brow. 

“How much did you pay for these?” Bucky asks, and Steve just shrugs. There’s no way the tickets didn’t empty out Steve’s meager savings account. “Let me pay for half.”

“No,” Steve laughs, kissing Bucky’s forehead. “It’s on me. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

Bucky stares at the tickets and then looks up at Steve, getting up on his toes and kissing Steve intensely, fusing their mouths together and fucking his tongue inside. They’re both breathless when Bucky pulls back, panting into each other’s mouths. 

“Wow,” Steve breathes, the tip of his nose skimming Bucky’s cheek. “That will never get old.” 

“Yeah well,” Bucky replies, grinning. “You just wait for tonight. Anything you want, baby. Name it.” 

“Yeah?” Steve replies, eyes drifting to the left like he’s already got something in mind. 

“Well, I’m hoping the night ends with me as the meat in a Matt and Steve sandwich,” Bucky jokes. “But if that falls through then yeah, anything you want.” 

Steve rolls his eyes and swats Bucky on the ass before pushing him in the general direction of his closet. 

“Hurry up and get ready,” Steve says, glancing at the clock. “If we want a good spot we better leave now.” 

“Okay, I just have to change,” Bucky says, bouncing excitedly towards his closet. He has some new going out clothes he’s been waiting to wear and this is the perfect occasion. 

“Of course you do,” Steve sighs, but the expression on his face is fond. He watches as Steve pockets the tickets and turns to face his closet. 

God, he’s a lucky boy.

They get there early enough that they manage to snag a spot right in front of the stage. The concert is standing room only and the tiny venue fills up quickly, people crowding in on them from all sides.

Steve stands behind Bucky, hands on his hips as they wait for the show to start. Bucky is so impatient, hips wiggling as he taps his foot against the concrete floor. 

There’s no opening act, just Matt and his guitar. Bucky checks the time on his phone obsessively and when the house lights finally dim, everyone erupts in applause. 

Matt Nathanson takes the stage, acoustic guitar hanging from his shoulder as he adjusts the mic and waves to the crowd. Bucky lets out a wolf whistle and Steve snorts, so happy he’s nearly bursting at the seams. 

Bucky loves music. He loves singing it, listening to it, and playing it. He loves Matt’s music in particular, and Steve is so happy he could give this to him. 

“Hey guys, I’m Matt Nathanson,” he says, and the crowd bursts into applause again. “I’m not gonna lie. This is gonna be a fuckin’ awesome show. We’re gonna fuckin’ rock it tonight, okay?” 

Steve laughs. Matt Nathanson’s onstage antics have been the subject of many of Bucky’s late night YouTube searches. 

“One question before we begin,” Matt says, fiddling with his guitar as he speaks into the mic. “How many of you have made love to my songs? Don’t be shy.” 

There’s a loud cheer and a multitude of hands go up, including Bucky’s. Steve smirks and hooks his fingers in the waistband of Bucky’s pants, unwilling to lose that contact even though the crowd is pushing them together. 

“Fuck yeah!” Matt shouts. “That’s what I like to hear. Everybody ready?” 

Bucky yells so loud it hurts Steve’s ears, and then Matt starts to play. He may be Bucky’s favorite musician, but Steve likes him too and he can’t deny that the man is fucking good at what he does. 

Bucky seems to be having a blast, singing along to every song and laughing at Matt’s stories. Bucky keeps shooting Steve little glances, soft private smiles of gratitude, and Steve’s heart grows two sizes. 

Steve loops his arms around Bucky’s waist, interlocking his fingers over his belly button and resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky leans back against him, hands resting on Steve’s wrists. 

Up on stage Matt leans in towards the mic, eyes flicking over to them, and he nearly does a double take. He steps back and looks directly down at Steve and Bucky, only a few feet away. 

“Holy shit. You two are fucking adorable,” Matt says, and Steve can hear Bucky gasp. Steve looks over his shoulder and then back at Matt, who points at them. “Yes, you. The striking gay couple front row center. Christ, you kids are fuckin’ cute.” 

Steve and Bucky share surprised looks that quickly turn into dopey grins before they look back up at Matt. 

“How long have you been together?” Matt asks, looking genuinely curious. It’s not unheard of for Matt to strike up a conversation with an audience member in the middle of a show, and even in the dark Steve can see the blush on Bucky’s cheeks. 

“Forever!” Bucky shouts out, and Steve grins.

“Well shit, forever it is,” Matt replies, winking at them. “This one’s for you, okay?” 

Bucky nearly swoons. 

The guitar starts up and Bucky cheers, throwing his arms in the air. Steve keeps his grip around Bucky’s waist tight, smiling when Bucky presses back against him. 

“Thought you might like this one,” Matt says, throwing Bucky another wink. Then he starts to sing. Steve recognizes the song right away. 

He and Bucky have fucked to this song so many times. 

Bucky shimmies his hips with the music, ass swaying and grinding against Steve’s hips and he tries very hard not to think sexual thoughts. It’s not an easy task. Especially when Bucky turns his head, digging his fingertips into the soft skin of Steve’s wrists as he starts to sing along with Matt, breathing hot into Steve’s ear. 

“So come on, get higher, loosen my lips. Faith and desire in the swing of your hips,” Bucky sings, swiveling his hips and biting down softly on the lobe of Steve’s ear. Steve slides one hand under Bucky’s shirts, hand pressing against his tattoo and pinky dipping into his pants. “Just pull me down hard and drown me in love.” 

Bucky licks a wet stripe up the side of Steve’s neck, sucking at the hollow behind his ear. Vivid images flash behind Steve’s eyes, memories of Bucky fingering him open while this song played in the background, of Bucky singing the words into his bare skin. 

“I miss the pull of your heart. I taste the sparks on your tongue,” Bucky sings, and Steve can barely hear Matt anymore. “I see angels, and devils, and God when you come… on. Hold on.” 

Steve grins, his hand slipping across Bucky’s hip as he finishes the rest of the song. Near the end, he lifts a hand and turns Steve’s chin so their eyes meet. Bucky’s gaze is intense, eyes dark jade in the dim light of the club. 

“Cause everything works, love,” he sings, full lips curving into a smile. “Everything works in your arms.” 

Their lips meet on the last note, and they kiss sweetly to the sound of cheers, applause, and Matt Nathanson cooing into his microphone.

They stumble into their room late that night, high on a post concert buzz, ears still ringing from being so close to the speakers.

They’re covered in sweat that has long since dried tacky, disgusting because most of it isn’t even theirs but that’s okay. They’re happy.

Steve toes off his Chuck Taylors as Bucky sticks their signed ticket stubs to the corkboard with brightly colored push pins. The grin hasn’t faded from his face since Matt walked out on the stage and god, Steve loves that smile. 

“I can’t believe you actually asked Matt Nathanson to sign your tits,” Steve snorts, and Bucky turns around. He pulls up his shirt, proudly displaying the messy scribble between his nipples, one of which Matt turned into a smiley face. 

Steve sort of hates seeing someone else’s name inked into Bucky’s skin, even if it is temporary, and even if it doesn’t mean anything. 

“Dude, whatever,” Bucky replies, looking down at the sharpie marks on his pale skin. “You know that shit was hilarious.” 

It was. Meeting Matt after the show was pretty incredible. They skulked around the tour bus with the other fans until Matt came out with a wide smile and a sharpie in his hand. 

He remembered them, and when he gave Bucky a hug he nearly choked on his gum. They chatted for a bit, took some pictures, and Matt signed their ticket stubs and Bucky’s chest, which Steve has on video. Which is totally going on YouTube.

“So you had fun, I take it?” Steve asks, and Bucky walks over to him. He links their hands together, kissing Steve’s knuckles before looking up at him. 

“So much,” he says adamantly. “Thank you, Steve.” He presses their lips together softly. “I love you.” 

“Mm, love you,” Steve replies, hands slipping under Bucky’s shirt to rest on his stomach. 

“So, I believe I promised that you could have me however you wanted,” Bucky says with a flirty grin. “Any ideas?” 

Steve looks hard at Bucky’s mouth, at the soft pink skin of his puffy lips, at the curve of them. He thinks about how they felt against his skin when Bucky was singing to him, thinks of the rush he gets when they touch his own. 

He reaches into Bucky’s pocket and pulls out his phone, fingers dancing across the shiny touch screen. 

“On the bed,” Steve says softly, and Bucky grins, pulling off his tee shirt as he goes. Steve sets the phone down in its dock on the nightstand, taking off his own shirt as he climbs onto the bed next to Bucky. 

“I set an alarm for an hour from now,” Steve says, pressing his hand to Bucky’s collarbone, sliding up until his fingers find Bucky’s pulse and press against it softly. “I want you to kiss me.” 

“And?” Bucky asks, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Steve’s wrist as Steve’s hand curls around his neck. The amount of trust they have in each other is insane, and Steve loves the calm, relaxed look in Bucky’s eyes, even with a hand wrapped loosely around his throat. Steve squeezes, just slightly, and Bucky lets out a breathy sigh. 

“That’s it,” Steve replies, sliding his hand away from Bucky’s neck to rest over his heart. “I want you to kiss me, and I want you to still be kissing me when that alarm goes off an hour from now.” 

Bucky looks surprised for a moment before his lips curve into a soft smile, eyes locking on Steve with such reverence that Steve’s breath catches in his throat. 

“I can do that,” Bucky whispers, reaching up to curl his arm around Steve’s neck and pull him down on top of him. Their lips meet as Steve blankets Bucky’s smaller body with his own, slipping one thigh between Bucky’s legs and pressing their bare chests together. 

Bucky likes to kiss with both hands, palming Steve’s cheeks as he parts Steve’s lips with his tongue. Steve barely lets their tongues touch before he’s pulling away, kissing Bucky’s bottom lip and then the top, sealing their mouths together again and reveling in the feel of Bucky’s lips against his own. 

It’s soft and lazy for the most part, hard dicks ignored in favor of their kisses. Bucky smells like sweat and smoke and the barest hint of his lavender shampoo and Steve buries his face in Bucky’s neck just to inhale the scent of him, dizzy and overpowering. 

They kiss until they’re light headed from lack of air, until their lips are numb and clumsy from overuse. It feels hot in the room but it’s probably just them, temperature skyrocketing as they stay pressed together skin to skin, arms wrapped around each other and hands roaming lazily. Bucky bites down softly on Steve’s bottom lip, tugs it just slightly and licks away the sting. Steve licks the crisp taste of sweat away from the bow of Bucky’s upper lip before sucking it into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth until he’s almost sure it will bruise. 

The alarm goes off and Bucky pulls away, eyes half lidded and sleepy as he looks up at Steve with a swollen smile. He pushes Steve’s sweaty hair away from his face, cups his cheek in one hand and just stares at him, gaze intense as the alarm blares from the nightstand. 

Finally Bucky reaches over, pressing snooze before lifting his head to kiss Steve again.

  
  



	44. Chapter 44

Finals week gets off to a rough start.

Bucky nearly sleeps through his Biology exam, barely skidding into the classroom on time. He breaks both of his pencils and when he borrows one from the girl next to him she tries valiantly to get him to go to lunch with her. She flips her hair and bats her eyelashes and he’s so stressed he just kind of awkwardly tells her that he likes cock and runs away. 

Things go downhill from there.

He doesn’t have any time to eat, let alone caffeinate, and he trips over the threshold of his Spanish classroom and faceplants in front of thirty stressed out college kids in need of a good laugh. 

Basically, his entire day is fmylife.com material. 

He escapes into his room, throwing his bag into the corner and climbing onto his bed, resisting the urge to curl into the fetal position. College is hard.

After a few minutes (in which he totally doesn’t play his CD of soothing ocean sounds, shut up) Steve comes in, still wearing his Ed’s apron and nursing an extra large icy cup of amazing deliciousness and caffeine.

Bucky whimpers and gets off of his bed, rushing over to Steve and crushing his face into Steve’s chest, wrapping his arms tight around Steve’s waist. Steve immediately wraps him in a hug, cold coffee cup pressed between his shoulder blades.

“Aw, babe,” Steve chuckles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Long day?” 

Bucky just whimpers again, very pathetically. Steve kisses his forehead and then pushes him back. He pinches the tip of his straw and sticks it between Bucky’s lips. 

“Drink,” Steve says, and Bucky slurps down the coffee greedily. He makes happy noises when Steve puts the cup in his hand. “There we go. Oh, I got something for you.”

“Hm?” Bucky mumbles, lips still sucking at the straw. Steve laughs and digs something out of his pocket. He takes Bucky’s wrist and Bucky finally stops drinking, brows knitting. Steve ties a thin black leather bracelet onto his wrist, and then turns it over and thumbs at the thin cuff. There is a silver ring in the middle, and it’s warm against Bucky’s skin.

“Ed is letting this chick sell some of her stuff at work,” Steve explains, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought this would look good on you.”

Bucky blinks, tearing his eyes away from the bracelet and swallowing against the sudden swell of emotion in his throat. 

“Thanks,” he breathes, bringing his wrist up to his face to examine the jewelry. “I love it.” 

“Good,” Steve grins, and then groans when he glances at the clock. “I gotta go. I’m almost late for my exam.” 

“Okay,” Bucky responds slowly, watching as Steve takes off his apron and tosses it into the corner. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks, Buck.” He grabs Bucky around the waist and kisses his lips softly. “See you soon.” 

He runs out of the room, leaving Bucky with his favorite caffeinated beverage, a new present, and a huge grin on his face. 

The day is definitely looking up.

They survive finals thanks to a precarious cocktail of caffeine, sex, and power naps.

By Thursday, Bucky is running purely on adrenaline and endorphins, and he’s got one final to go. He stumbles into the dorm room to see Steve sitting at the desk, nursing a large iced coffee. He sees Bucky and gets up, stalking over to him and pressing him against the door as he kisses him. 

“Mm, hey,” Bucky says, licking the coffee taste from his lips. “Good to see you too.” 

“Hold this,” Steve says, thrusting the ice-cold cup into Bucky’s hand. As soon as Bucky has a good grip on it Steve drops to his knees, hands going for Bucky’s fly. “Finished my History exam and this was all I could think about. Wanna suck you so bad.” 

“Shit – yeah, okay,” Bucky says, surprised and pleased. Steve yanks his pants down and wraps his hand around Bucky’s dick, getting him hard and then sucking him into his mouth. Bucky grunts, one hand tangling in Steve’s hair and the other squeezing the drink cup. He watches Steve suck him, insanely pink lips stretching wide around his shaft, dusky eyelashes skimming flushed cheeks. He absently brings the straw to his lips, gulping down coffee. He lets out another soft moan around the straw. 

Steve looks up at him, one eyebrow raised as he sucks greedily at the head of Bucky’s dick. Bucky just smiles around the straw, one hand cupping Steve’s cheek.

“It’s like a fucking threesome,” Bucky mumbles around the straw, and Steve just rolls his eyes and then closes them as he bobs up and down on his dick. “The two loves of my life.” 

It’s not long before he’s coming into Steve’s mouth, a soft cry escaping his lips as his hips jerk forward. 

Steve swallows it all and then slinks up Bucky’s body, kissing his panting lips and then taking the cup back, slurping noisily until he finishes off the coffee. He kisses Bucky again, fucks his tongue into his mouth and lets Bucky taste the strangely addicting bitter taste of sugary coffee and his own come. 

“Gonna let me fuck you?” Steve asks, tugging Bucky across the room. Bucky grins and falls back onto the bed, leaning up on his elbows as Steve undresses. 

“Depends,” Bucky asks, fingers wrapping lazily around his dick, stroking himself back to full hardness. “Is the latte invited?” 

Steve just growls and jumps on top of him. 

Bucky takes that as a no.

  
  



	45. Chapter 45

  
  


The semester finally ends, and Christmas break is spent with their families. Steve had no idea how much he actually missed them until he was with them again, could hug his mother and carry his little sister on his back and feel his dad’s firm hand on his shoulder.

They’d spent all of Thanksgiving break on each other – fighting, making up, relearning each other, and their families had been neglected. 

He and Bucky don’t talk much in the week leading up to Christmas, but that’s okay. This time they know where they stand. They can spend time with their families without worrying about their fate, because they’re better than they’ve ever been. 

Steve can’t sleep on Christmas Eve, little boy restlessness he hasn’t yet outgrown. The house is quiet, everyone sacked out on eggnog and cookies, but he’s still wide awake. Humming Christmas carols doesn’t work, and he lets out a huff as he rolls out of bed. 

He rubs at his eyes and then spots something on the nightstand, grinning to himself as he snatches it up and heads out of the room. 

It’s cold enough outside that he drives over to Bucky’s, parking his truck behind Bucky’s car and staring up at his window. He smiles to himself and bypasses the front door, instead hopping onto the trellis that was seemingly tailor made for sneaking into Bucky’s room. 

The window fogs up with his breath as he pushes it open and climbs inside. Bucky rolls over, sleepy eyes fluttering open blearily. He stares at Steve and then smirks, yawning hugely. 

“You’re not Santa,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. Steve grins and closes the window, shivering a little as his body adjusts to the sleepy warmth of Bucky’s bedroom. He kicks off his flip-flops and climbs into Bucky’s bed, snuggling against his boyfriend and pressing his cold toes against his feet. Bucky hisses and wraps his arms around Steve, eyes slipping shut again. “You’re freezing.” 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, digging the mistletoe out of his pocket and holding it above their heads. Bucky doesn’t respond, breath coming soft and shallow. “Hey, wake up.” 

“Hm?” Bucky’s eyebrows rise slightly but he doesn’t open his eyes. Steve leans in and brushes their noses together, his hand curling around Bucky’s hip. 

“Hey, look,” Steve tries again, and Bucky finally opens his eyes. Steve pulls back and shakes the mistletoe, grinning widely. Bucky looks up at it and then chuckles softly, fingers sliding up into Steve’s hair. 

“You really need an excuse?” Bucky asks, voice low and raspy with sleep. “You can kiss me anytime you want to.” 

Steve grins even wider, heart thumping against his ribcage as he tosses the mistletoe on the floor. He leans in to kiss Bucky tenderly, and his lips are warm and so soft. Bucky’s fingers are lazy but insistent, curling in his hair as he returns the kiss. It doesn’t end until they’re breathless, turning their heads to the side just to get some much needed oxygen. 

Moonlight filters in through the blinds, falling in a line of stripes on the floor. They rest their heads on the same pillow and look at each other, pressed so close and staying so warm. Bucky’s eyes slip shut and he presses their foreheads together, fingers trailing down the back of Steve’s neck and making him shiver. 

They’re quiet for a long time, just breathing each other in. He assumes Bucky has fallen back to sleep and he’s about to drift off as well when suddenly Bucky pulls him closer, lips brushing his ear as he starts to sing, soft as a whisper. 

“Moon pours through the ceiling tonight, embraces us tight, shows me we’re right for each other,” he sings, voice low and rough, the sleepy sound of it going straight to Steve’s heart. “And as we lie here and let the world fade away, the sunrise tries to end it while we try to stay.”

Steve’s throat constricts with emotion as Bucky presses their foreheads together, eyes closed and lips brushing Steve’s as he sings. Steve pulls Bucky even closer, gathers him up in his arms and tries to keep his emotions in check. Bucky hasn’t sang for him like this since they fixed everything, and Steve missed it terribly – missed the sound of Bucky’s sweet, rough voice in his ear as they lie tangled together in a dark, quiet room. It’s so intimate, makes Steve tremble with the force of it. 

“The rest of my life can’t compare to this night, and only the heartaches have given me sight. They bring me to you,” Bucky continues, voice slow and smooth like honey. He’s nearly boneless in Steve’s arms, so tired, but he continues to sing for Steve like he knows how much he needs it. 

Bucky opens his eyes then, biting his lip for a moment and pushing even closer to Steve, hand slipping up the back of his shirt and resting between his shoulder blades. He presses his lips to Steve’s forehead and continues, voice tinged with emotion. 

“It’s all about the first night and last, some people say,” Bucky sings softly, lips brushing Steve’s forehead. “Well, I love you so much more tonight, more than yesterday. The rest of my life can’t compare to this night.” 

Steve blinks away the moisture in his eyes, arm locked tight around Bucky’s waist. Bucky exhales deeply, lips skimming across Steve’s eyebrow and down the slope of his nose. He nudges Steve’s nose with his own and then kisses him gently, plush lips pressing against his own. He lets his head drop to the pillow, burrowing his head under Steve’s jaw, lips pressed to the hollow of his throat. 

“I love you,” Steve breathes, and he feels Bucky’s lips turn up into a lazy, sleepy smile against his skin. 

“I love you,” Bucky repeats, sticking his warm feet up against Steve’s cold ones. “Merry Christmas.” 

Bucky falls asleep, and Steve spends a long time just staring out at the moon, rubbing circles low on Bucky’s back. 

It’s amazing, just how much love his heart can hold.

  
  



	46. Chapter 46

Peter’s cabin is more like a house – a relatively large house with two stories, situated on the edge of the massive lake. It’s pretty awesome.

Like, really awesome. 

There are two bedrooms upstairs that Peter and Steve have called dibs on so they can fuck their respective boys in relative private and everyone else has to crash on the floor wherever they happen to pass out. Bucky is pretty happy about that. 

It’s thirty minutes to midnight, and Bucky is really fucking drunk. He’s perched up on the back of the sofa, sipping something with Vodka that Natasha thrust into his hand. Steve is… somewhere else and the music is really loud. 

Something grabs his foot and he absolutely does not shriek as he’s pulled off of the back of the couch, ass landing on the cushions with a bounce as he keeps his drink over his head. A lone drop splashes out and hits his cheek. He tries to lick it away as Wade flops down next to him. He leans in to lick the drink from Bucky’s cheek and he wrinkles his nose. It beats being sticky, he guesses. 

“So you like sucking dick, right?” Wade asks, licking his finger clean and then taking a drink from Bucky’s cup. His first instinct is to protect his booze at all costs, but then he squints at Wade. 

“Why would you ask me such a question?” Bucky says, and yeah wow, he’s slurring just a little. Wade rolls his eyes and slings his arm over Bucky’s shoulders. 

“I mean, you genuinely get off on sucking dick,” Wade continues. “You don’t do it just to make Steve feel good, right?” 

“Why do you say this?” Fuck, why can’t he talk properly? Wade bites his lip and gestures over his shoulder.

“Steve is like, really drunk,” he says, whispering like it’s a secret. Bucky can smell tequila on his breath. “And chatty.”

“Steve is telling people I get off on sucking cock?” He asks, and Wade nods. “Well, it’s not like he’s lying, but jeez.” 

“It’s just, I’ve always fooled around with guys, but it’s always been like a one night thing, you know?” Wade continues. “I was sort of talented at always finding myself on the receiving end of things. And now like, I have a boyfriend and I’m expected to be on my knees all the time, and it leaves a little to be desired.” 

“And you’re asking me for advice because I love sucking dick?” Bucky asks, and Wade nods. “On my knees like a whore.” 

“No!” Wade shouts. “Ugh, never mind.” 

“I’m kidding,” Bucky laughs, letting his forehead fall onto Wade’s shoulder. “I do love it.” He lifts his head and looks Wade in the eye. “It’s the taste, right? You don’t like the taste.” 

“That’s a big part of it,” Wade admits, and Bucky tries to nod and take a drink at the same time, which results in him spilling pink liquid into the creases of his neck. Wade leans in and Bucky smacks his palm against his forehead and pushes him back.

“Down boy,” Bucky says, and then takes another drink. “You know how me and Steve drink pineapple juice all the time? Always have it with lunch and stuff?” 

“Yeah,” Wade replies, raising an eyebrow. 

“It ain’t because we enjoy tropical fruit, man,” Bucky tells him, nodding at himself and then taking another drink. It’s almost gone and he has no idea what it was and he needs Natasha like, right now. 

“What are you – oh. Wait, really?” Wade asks, eyes widening as Bucky nods. 

“Our come tastes like candy, man,” Bucky tells him. “Can’t get enough of it.” 

“That really works?” Wade asks, and Bucky lets out a long hum, staring mournfully into his empty red cup. “I gotta go tell Peter. Pineapple. Thanks!” 

He leans in to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek but sort of gets his nose and his upper lip instead. It tickles and Bucky instinctively slaps at him, shouting an apology as Wade runs away. 

“Natasha!” He calls, but to no avail. His cup stays devastatingly empty. Steve drops down next to him and leans in to kiss at his neck. 

“Mm, you’re all sticky,” Steve says, tongue peeking out to lap at Bucky’s skin. Bucky hums and tilts his head to the side. Then he pushes Steve back and glares at him.

“Why are you telling everyone I get off on sucking your dick?” Bucky says, scowling. Steve just looks confused and drunk and adorable. Bucky sort of just wants to make out with him all night.

“I’m sorry?” Steve replies. “That’s not exactly a secret, dude. Everyone knows you’re a slut for my cock.” 

Or not.

“If it’s any consultation,” Steve says, leaning in to trace his tongue along the curve of Bucky’s jaw. “The feeling is mutual.” 

“Did – did you just say ‘if it’s any consultation’?” Bucky asks, throwing his head back and laughing. Steve snorts against his neck, his hand falling heavily onto Bucky’s thigh.

“’M really drunk,” Steve laughs, kissing his way up to Bucky’s ear. “And you’re really hot.” 

“Two things I was already quite aware of, thanks,” Bucky replies, spotting Wade and Peter over at the liquor table. Wade is pouring pineapple Malibu into Peter’s cup and Bucky rolls his eyes. “It has to be real pineapple, dumbass!” He shouts, and Wade shrugs his shoulders. Bucky watches him mix the rum with orange juice and he licks his lips. “Bring me one!” 

Garrett wanders over with a beer in hand, and he goes to sit next to them but then spots Steve’s tongue firmly attached to Bucky’s neck and scoots over a cushion before dropping down. Bucky looks over at him, fingers curled loosely in the soft curls at the base of Steve’s neck. 

“How goes it?” Bucky asks, nodding in thanks when Wade hands him a full red cup. He takes a sip, tastes the sharp tartness of pineapple juice and winks at Wade before pulling Steve’s head back so he can have a sip. Steve lets out a soft hum and gulps it down. 

“Oh, I’m just trapped in a vortex of unspeakable evil, and you?” Garrett scoffs, nursing his beer with a scowl. “It’s a total fucking banana factory in here. There are two girls, and ten guys. Ten! And the two girls are ridiculously hot and no amount of alcohol will get them to leave their stupid boyfriends. Or make out with each other.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Bucky says. “Given enough alcohol I would put money on Natasha and Wanda touching boobs by the end of the night.” 

“Really?” Steve and Garrett say in unison, and Bucky flicks the end of Steve’s nose. “Ow.” 

“I brought you something pink!” Natasha rasps, popping up from seemingly nowhere and dropping onto Bucky’s lap. She leans in to give him a peck on the lips and Bucky wrinkles his nose. 

“You’re not allowed to do that anymore,” Bucky says, rubbing at his mouth. “Your lips have been on my brother.” 

“All the tiiiime,” Natasha teases, leaning in to kiss Steve as well. Garrett narrows his eyes at her and she juts her lips out into a pout. 

“What’s up, Yoko?” Garrett says, and Natasha rolls her eyes. “Just walkin’ around with that sexy little body, breaking up the band and shit.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Natasha chides. “What can I do to cheer you up, G-Rogers?” 

“Make out with Wanda,” Bucky supplies, and Natasha smirks. “All the straight boys here would enjoy that. But Steve isn’t allowed to watch.”

“Fucked up,” Steve tells him, but Bucky just smirks and kisses his temple. 

“No, seriously,” Garrett says, leaning in with bright eyes. “How much alcohol would it take to make this happen?” 

“Is that all?” Natasha says, hopping drunkenly off of the couch. “Wanda!” 

“Oh shit. Later, homos!” Garrett exclaims, following Natasha across the room. Steve and Bucky watch as Natasha hops onto Wanda’s lap and plants a kiss on her lips. Sam drops his beer and Ben’s eyes widen. 

“That’s it!” Ben cries out. “No more hanging out with the gays. It’s fucking contagious!” Sam just looks over at them and mouths thank you, giving them a double thumbs up. 

“Girl kissing!” Wade exclaims. “Someone break out a camera, now. Twitter it, throw it on your Facebook wall! I want this all over every social networking site within the hour!” 

“You’re welcome!” Bucky shouts back. Tony looks over at them and tips his cup. Steve and Bucky both nod back at him, happy that there’s no lingering animosity between them. He looks back at Natasha and Wanda, wrinkling his nose. “I just don’t understand the appeal.” 

“Yeah,” Steve says, looking over his shoulder at them and then turning back to Bucky, pulling his legs across Steve’s lap. Bucky raises an eyebrow, smirking warmly.

“Right,” he says slowly, taking another sip of his drink as Steve stares at him. “You don’t find that hot?” 

“You know what I find hot?” Steve says, sliding his giant hand up Bucky’s thigh to his hip, pulling him fully on his lap. “You.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, setting his cup down on the floor so he can loop an arm around Steve’s neck. He’s looking at him with this warm, liquid gaze and it makes Bucky’s heart speed up. 

“Yeah,” Steve replies lowly. “Two girls kissing might be nice to look at, but you in your old man pajamas flossing your teeth in the bathroom mirror will always be hotter.” 

“Shut up,” Bucky says, slapping Steve’s chest as his cheeks heat up. Steve laughs softly and catches Bucky’s wrist, slotting his fingers with Bucky’s and squeezing. 

“It’s true,” Steve retorts. “The way you get up on your tiptoes and lean in, stretching until your shirt pulls up and I can see your tattoo.”

Bucky swallows as Steve’s free hand trails under his shirt, fingers rubbing across his inked hip. He shudders slightly and leans in, pressing his head to Steve’s shoulder.

“And when you fall asleep while you’re studying,” Steve continues, fingers stroking soothingly across his tattoo, “and you drool all over your textbooks. So hot.” 

He reaches up to put his fingers under Bucky’s chin, lifting his face until they’re eye to eye. Bucky licks his lips, eyes drooping as he stares at Steve’s face. He’s drunk on alcohol, drunk on Steve, and he’s warm and tingly all over. His thumb swipes gently across Bucky’s lips and he nearly moans. 

“But when you kiss me?” Steve says, voice pitched fond and low. “Explosive.” 

Bucky pushes up a little, presses his lips to Steve’s in a soft kiss. The sensation is such a rush every single time. They keep at it – soft little kisses and gentle swipes of their tongues. Bucky is still breathless when Steve pulls away. He keeps his lips pressed to the corner of Bucky’s mouth, words spoken into soft skin in a near whisper.

“And when I’m inside you?” Steve says, and Bucky shivers. “When I’m making love to you, Buck, that’s fucking molten lava. Nothing hotter.”

“Do it,” Bucky breathes, arms tightening around Steve’s neck, his ass snug against Steve’s lap. “Take me upstairs. Make love to me.” 

“There’s something we need to do first,” Steve replies, chuckling as he slips his hand up the back of Bucky’s shirt. Bucky sighs, leaning in to kiss under Steve’s ear.

“What could be more important than you and me,” Bucky breathes, nipping Steve’s earlobe, “tangled up together, naked between the sheets?”

“It’s almost midnight,” Steve tells him, glancing at the television. Dick Clark continues to defy the laws of nature by being alive, and the ball is close to dropping. “They say that whatever you’re doing at midnight is what you’ll be doing all year.” 

Bucky pulls away from Steve’s neck and looks around the room. Ben and Sam have reclaimed their girlfriends and their mouths, lips locked together. Wade and Peter are curled up together in a recliner, looking adorable with their foreheads pressed together. Everyone is having such a good time, and everyone is so drunk. Bucky smiles, feeling so grateful to have such a fantastic group of friends. He’s lucky to be here in the middle of them all, wrapped up in Steve’s arms. 

“So you’re saying we’re going to spend all year watching our friends make drunken asses of themselves?” Bucky asks, turning his head to look at Steve. Steve just smiles fondly, reaching up to push Bucky’s hair back from his face. 

“If we’re lucky,” he says, lacing his fingers with Bucky’s again and kissing his knuckles. “But I was actually talking about us. We’re going to be together, kissing at midnight and we’re gonna be together all year and then when next year rolls around we’ll kiss again, and it’ll go on like that forever.”

“Forever, huh?” Bucky replies, smiling fondly and leaning in to press their foreheads together. Steve grins, and he’s so beautiful it knocks all the air from Bucky’s lungs. 

“Hell yeah,” Steve replies, and then reaches up to cup Bucky’s cheek, looking soft and warm and so serious. “I love you.”

The countdown starts then, everyone in the room screaming out the numbers at the top of their lungs. 

“I love you too,” Bucky responds softly, their lips nearly brushing. “Always will.” 

“Three, two, one!” 

“Happy New Year,” they tell each other in unison, and their lips meet in the middle of all the chaos. Amidst the shouts and the screams, all the confetti raining down, there is only them. 

Only them, forever.

  
  



End file.
